Grimmsdottir
by CorduroyKoala
Summary: Many stories have been lost to time, swallowed up by the Grimm in their relentless drive to wipe Humans and Faunus alike from the surface of Remnant. Some of these stories told of heroes and civilizations, and others told of demons and disasters. Sometimes, these stories come back, though not always in the ways you'd expect. Rated M for moments of intense violence and some language
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, and welcome to the story! I don't normally put notes at the beginnings of chapters, but there's something I want to bring up before you go in. This story will be a little be a little… gruesome at times. I wouldn't say it's particularly graphic, and I've consulted with some people regarding the rating and we all seem to be on the same page about it. I think this chapter will be the worst offender, but I don't plan on even doing this sort of thing all that often. That said, I may end up changing the rating to M at some point down the line. Hopefully this won't dissuade anyone from reading.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _Water._

That was the only word in her head. She didn't know what it meant, but she sensed it had to do with the pain in her throat. She stumbled, sinking into the fine sand that made up the ground. Struggling back to her feet, she looked upwards. Something black hung down in front of her eyes, partially obscuring her vision, but she was still able to fix her eyes on the bright white circle that seemed to be casting the unbearable heat over her. _The… son? No, that's something else._ _ **Sun**_ _._ Her eyes quickly began to ache and she had to look away.

 _Water._

She took another uneasy step forward, unable to see clearly through the large spot of color filling the center of her vision. She had done… something to cause this. She couldn't remember what. She put her foot down, but it met only empty space. Losing her balance, she collapsed again before rolling down a… hill of some sort. It wasn't a normal hill though, made up of fine, weather-beaten sand. She got back to her feet. _What does a normal hill look like?_ She frowned. The words were in her head, but she couldn't make sense of them.

 _Water._

A whirring began to fill the void in her ears. She looked around, trying to find the source of the irritating noise. Her eyes scanned quickly over a bright white disc before settling on a black spot amidst the blue. _…_ _ **Bird**_ _._ She continued walking the direction she'd been going before coming across a trail where something had been dragged through the sand. She stopped to look at it. It seemed… familiar, but she couldn't remember ever having seen something like it before. She lifted her foot to take another step, but the other leg gave way beneath her.

 _Water._

She suddenly became aware of a loud whirring sound, and a small wind began to throw tiny grains of sand into her body. She struggled back to her feet and looked toward the source. A large metal— _Bird? No, too big._ _ **Boat?**_ —hovered several feet above the sand, blowing the particles away from itself. Two figures appeared from within the ship and began to move toward her. The one in front— _Male… How do I know that?_ —wore a long coat and a flat-brimmed hat that shielded him from the sun and sand. Behind him was a woman wearing a— _Bag? Sheet?_ _ **Poncho**_ —and clutching a large, strange-looking device near her chest. _**Weapon**_ _._ She looked back toward the man. Aside from holding his hat on his head, he held nothing in his hands. She noticed, however, that he had similar looking tools on each hip.

 _Water._

The two seemed to have no difficulty moving through the sand, though she had no idea where they had come from. The man in front said something, but the words made no sense to her. He modified the phrase slightly, but it still held no meaning for her. She took a step forward, but lost her balance and fell forward. She stared down at the sand for several moments before a pair of… somethings rested on her shoulders. The contact burned, but the only sound she could make in protest was a pathetic croak. She looked up and saw a man supporting her—had she seen him before? He wore a flat-brimmed hat that cast a shadow over his face, but it did little to obscure it. He took one hand off her shoulder and reached into his long coat to remove a flat, circular container. He unscrewed the cap and held it out to her. "—ink this. Not too fast."

 _Water._

She shakily took the container and brought it to her mouth. _This_ was water. The cool liquid poured out, instantly soothing the dryness in her mouth. She swallowed and felt the water slide down her throat. It was the most incredible thing she'd ever felt, but the moment didn't last long. She needed more. She tried to drink the rest of the liquid as fast as she could, but the man stopped her. "Whoa! Not so much." Having found water, the word that had been repeating in her head was replaced by another.

 _Kill_.

She knew what that one meant. Jerking her arm forward, she plunged it into the man's chest. He had a wide-eyed look on his face as she wrapped her fist around his heart. She crushed it in her hand and yanked it out, blood splattering onto the sand between them. A small dribble of the crimson liquid oozed out of his mouth before he fell backwards, dead.

The woman behind the man panicked, bringing her weapon up to point it at the now-bloodied girl. She managed to get a couple shots off, but she was too slow. As the bullets buried themselves in the sand, a bloody hand was already on her throat. She tried to scream as the claws dug into her neck, but she could only make a gurgling sound. The two hit the ground, and the girl pulled her arm back, completely tearing her victim's throat out.

She stood, watching for a moment as the blood from the two fresh corpses soaked into the sand. Scrambling over the bodies, she grabbed up the canteen and put it back to her mouth. Nothing came out. She dropped it, looking down at the spot where it had been laying. The water had completely emptied out into the sand. Her eyes settled on her hands, covered in blood. It was warm, but if it soothed the pain in her throat…

(-)

Oliver stared out at the desert passing beneath the Bullhead. There was a limit to his attention, however, and he reclined back as best he could in the co-pilot's chair. Kicking his feet up onto the control panel, he tipped his hat down over his eyes and settled in for a nap. The moment of respite was short-lived as his pilot swatted his legs off their perch, keeping her orange eyes looking out into the desert and one hand on the control stick. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping an eye out for Grimm?"

The gunslinger sat up in a huff. "Can't you watch out for them while I take a nap?"

"So you're saying you want a repeat of what happened last time you fought right after waking up?" his partner reminded with a smile.

Oliver frowned at the memory, but he wasn't ready to concede just yet. "Doesn't this thing have a gun on it?"

The ginger shrugged. "Fine, but when we collect on this job, you're paying for the ammo."

Sighing, the black-haired man sat back up. The Bullhead's guns chewed through more ammo in one second than he could fire in ten minutes. As he returned his eyes to the wasteland, he continued the conversation in a last ditch effort to avoid the boring task. "Y'know, if you would just let me fly, this wouldn't be a problem—"

"For the last time, we agreed that _I_ was getting the stick this mission!"

Oliver struggled to keep from chuckling at the accidental innuendo. "Alright, alright, " he said jokingly. "No need to make it weird." She just rolled her eyes. Slips of the tongue were more common with her than she would like, but after almost a decade of working together, they had become used to it. That didn't make the mistakes any less humorous to the gunslinger, though, and neither did his age.

The pair slipped into silence, Oliver once again slowly growing bored with the excruciatingly dull task. After about fifteen minutes, however, something caught his eye. Sitting up in his seat, he tapped his partner's shoulder with the back of his hand. "Hey, Tawny. Look." He pointed down to a small black speck amidst the endless browns of the desert.

The woman squinted her eyes to see what he was referring to. "Is that a Grimm?"

Oliver shook his head. "I don't think so. I think…" He squinted his eyes further. "I think it's a person."

"All the way out here? There's nothing for miles!"

The black-haired man shrugged. "Either way, we should check it out." Tawny nodded and adjusted their trajectory toward the figure. Freeing himself of his restraints, Oliver stood up. "I'll go get Timekeeper ready for you."

Descending the short flight of stairs connecting the cockpit and main hold with a single step, he carefully made his way to the far side and pulled his partner's light machine gun off the rack. He'd always found the term comically misleading as the weapon weighed about as much as a small adult. As he ran through the final checks on the weapon, he felt the airship begin to descend. Once it had stopped, the side doors began to open and Tawny stepped down into the hold. "It's a person, alright," she told him as she threw her poncho over her head. "Girl, probably late teens and—get this—naked."

 _Well, that_ _ **is**_ _certainly odd._ Oliver hefted Timekeeper up in his hands. "Guess you don't need this then."

She grabbed the weapon from him. "Khepers?"

Oliver's face paled at the mention of the Grimm. He jerked his head to look outside, as if one of the scarab-like creatures was going to burst out of the sand at any time—and he knew very well that they could. "Right. Let's do this quick, then."

Grabbing hold of his hat against the whirling of the engines, he made his way to the open door and dropped out. He glanced back at the ship, noting the distance it was hovering above the sand. "Good job!" he shouted to his partner. "You didn't park it in the sand this time!" The woman ignored him and followed him out of the hold. She stayed behind him as he made his way toward the girl, who stood staring at them. She was tall, with long, messy black hair that partially obscured her face and incredibly pale skin—even more so than an Atlesian—marred by the beginnings of a nasty sunburn.

Oliver started jogging toward her, boots sinking slightly into the soft sand. Once he was far enough away from the ship, he called out to the girl. "Hey! Are you alright?" She didn't respond, so he repeated the question, louder this time. "Hey! Are you okay?!" The girl tried to step toward him, but collapsed as she put weight on her foot. He quickly covered the remainder of the distance between them and rested his hands on her shoulders, gently lifting her up. She made a small, pained sound as he touched her raw skin.

 _Shit, she's probably dehydrated._ Reaching into his coat, he fumbled around for his canteen. Pulling it out, he unscrewed the cap and held it out to her. "Here, drink this. Not too fast." The girl accepted the drink almost hesitantly, but after the first swallow she began trying to down it as fast as she could. "Whoa!" He grabbed her arm gently to try and force her to slow down. "Not so much." For a brief moment, he thought he saw a killing intent in her blood-red eyes.

Then she passed out in his arms.

"Shit!" Oliver quickly adjusted his hold around the girl, being especially careful around her legs, and picked her up. "We need to get her to a hospital, ASAP!" he barked to his partner as he turned around. The woman nodded and the two ran back to the airship as fast as they were able. As they neared their goal, however, there was an explosive sound behind them. Neither of them needed to look to know what it was. "Hold them off until I can get her secured!"

Tawny stopped running and spun, dropping to one knee and opening fire. The thundering bass drove him onward and he leapt into the Bullhead. Pulling one of the seats down with his foot, he set the girl down into it and began working the straps to secure her. On the other side of the ship, however, a second explosion disturbed the otherwise calm sand several dozen yards away. As thousands of grains rained back down to the ground, Oliver spotted the Kheper crawling to the surface. _Of all the things to have a phobia of, it had to be insects._ He drew both halves of Venation and began firing the hand cannons at the Grimm. Several rounds found their marks in the unprotected areas, but most ricocheted off the armor plating.

The creature screeched in irritation and fired several thorns at him in retaliation. There were several short bursts of white light as each barb struck an invisible barrier several feet from their target and dropped to the ground. The scarab scuttled beneath the sand. Oliver holstered his guns quickly and went back to securing the unconscious girl, glancing to his right to make sure the Kheper wasn't coming toward the ship. The approaching furrow in the sand told him it was. Tightening the last strap, he headed for the cockpit, yelling at his partner as he went. "We need to get out of here _now_!"

Sitting in the pilot's chair, he felt the ship tilt slightly as something boarded. He hoped it was Tawny. "Go!" It was her. Resisting the urge to yank up on the collective control, he eased it upward, causing them to rise. He heard Timekeeper continue to fire before an explosion shook the ship, forcing him to correct. A red light began to flash, indicating an engine problem, but went out within seconds. Despite making the ship slower and harder to handle, he left the side doors open. While they were far enough away to avoid the Kheper's explosive surfacing, the bugs could still fly and would cause trouble if Tawny didn't take them out. Surprisingly, there wasn't any more gunfire from his partner. The woman climbed up the steps and took the seat next to him. Keeping his eyes ahead, he caught her hitting the button to close the doors in his periphery. "All gone, I take it?"

"Not quite." The tone of her voice did not make it sound like she had good news. "They didn't even bother to chase. By their size, I'd guess they were pretty old, so they probably knew better."

"Damn," Oliver muttered. The one he'd shot at looked pretty big, but his judgement of size wasn't the most reliable when it came to insects. "They probably would have brought in a nice reward." He glanced down at the console. "What happened with the engine?"

"Kheper burst up right under it. The sand would've taken it out, so I pulled the plug for a moment. You owe me a new poncho, by the way."

Oliver looked at her. Sure enough, the garment was gone, leaving her in her halter top and chinos. She was sweating heavily, even for the desert, and he thought he smelled soot in the air. "How do I owe you the poncho?" he asked. "You should make them more heat-resistant."

The orange-haired woman took a long drink from a water bottle she'd pulled from the small cooler behind her. "Because it was _your_ Kheper that almost took out the ship," she explained, wiping the excess fluid from her mouth. "If you had actually killed it before it burrowed again, none of it would have happened."

"In my defense, _you_ were supposed to be covering _me_ while I—" The man stopped his argument short as he remembered their charge. "Shit! The girl!" Momentarily locking the controls, he got up and let his partner take over. Moving back down into the hold, he made his way over to where he'd strapped in the unconscious teen. Taking off his duster, he laid it over her naked form as best he could. She hadn't moved—not under her own power, at least—but a quick check told him she was still breathing.

Standing back up, he rubbed the back of his neck. There wasn't much else he could do for the girl while she was unconscious, but he didn't like the idea of leaving her alone in case she woke up. Sighing, he moved back toward the cockpit. As he took the first step, however, the ship suddenly lurched forward and to the left, causing him to stumble. He managed to catch one of the handrails on the ceiling. The ship quickly righted, and Tawny called out an apology from her seat. "Sorry! Hands slipped."

With a shake of his head, Oliver climbed back into the cockpit. "Let me fly. You go cool down and keep an eye on the girl." The woman hesitated for a moment before ceding the position to her partner. As she moved back into the hold, the gunslinger dropped himself into the chair. Pulling the headset off the wall to his left, he slipped it over his head. They were very nearly to Vacuo, and he would have to make arrangements to fly directly to the hospital. He frowned at the thought; there was always a lot of paperwork to do when these types of things happened.

(-)

The girl's eyes settled on her hands, covered in blood. It was warm, but if it soothed the pain in her throat… As she raised a finger to her mouth, the sanguine fluid faded out of existence, taking with it the feeling of warmth. She looked around and saw that the two bodies had disappeared as well, leaving her alone in the sand once again. She felt… It was a struggle to find the word for the emotion, but it eventually came to her.

 _ **Disappointment**_.

She wasn't quite as thirsty as she had been before, so that was… good, she supposed. As she stood thinking, a pair of black insects— _ **Butterflies**_ —flew up to her. She reached out to touch one, but it darted away. The fluttering of their wings suddenly became violent, buffeting her and driving her to her knees. The winds whipped up the sand around her, pelting and stinging her with the tiny grains and forcing her to shut her eyes. She lashed out blindly in an attempt to swat the offending creatures, but she couldn't find them. A moment later, the gusts disappeared and she opened her eyes.

She now wore the coat of the man who had given her water, and at her feet was the woman's weapon. She reached down and picked it up. It was impossibly light, and seemed a little smaller in her hands than it had in the woman's. Looking up, she saw a single massive butterfly floating at the top of one of the sand hills— _ **Dunes**_ _._ The insect began to flap its wings, sending gusts of wind and sand rushing down toward her. The force crashed into her, stinging her naked skin and blowing her hair and coattails out behind her, but she stood her ground. Even as she sunk into the sand, she pulled the weapon up to her shoulder and began firing. The bullets struck the giant insect, tiny pinpricks of light seeping out of the holes. More and more light poked through until the creature finally burst open with a flash of white.

The girl shielded her eyes against the flare. The light never dissipated, and slowly she removed her arm. Her coat and weapon were gone, as was the sand and sky. She now stood on a cold, empty, white surface that seemed to stretch on forever, with light radiating around her from seemingly nowhere. There was a soft _beep_ behind her, and she turned to look. There was nothing. She heard the sound again, this time to her left, and turned to look. In the distance stood a black figure. There was another beep behind her and she turned again. She saw the same figure, though it was much closer now. _Beep_. She turned right, and the figure was on top of her. She tried to run, but everything turned black, save for her. Slowly, she faded away as well.

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

 _Beep._

The girl slowly opened her eyes, and found light had once again returned. It hurt, but she forced her eyes to adjust to the change. She was laying on something soft, with something else just as soft and _warm_ laying on top of her. She could see a definite wall this time, and slowly made out the figure that leaned against it. The woman wore an oddly designed yellow - - -, with white - - - that seemed too short for her. _**Shirt**_ _._ _ **Pants**_ _._ She held something white in her hand, and occasionally brought it to her mouth—whatever was inside had a strong smell to it.

As her vision focused more and more, the girl realized the woman was the same one who had been carrying the weapon. She was looking at something near her—no, she was looking _at_ her. The orange eyes seemed to register something and their owner shifted herself to kick something. The fuzzy form jerked upward, revealing itself to be the man who had given her water.

They weren't dead. She hadn't killed them. She was… _**Happy**_ felt like the proper name for the emotion she was feeling. Her memories of what had happened were apparently questionable, and she wasn't sure what had happened and what hadn't. She had seen herself kill them, but she couldn't remember why. They hadn't threatened her in any way, and the man had actually given her water to drink. Then he'd pulled it away from her. No, that wasn't quite right. He'd tried to keep her from drinking as fast as she'd wanted to. She didn't know why he hadn't wanted her to, but she didn't remember him seeming malicious at the time.

 _Malicious_. She like that word.

"Hey, you're up."

The man's voice sounded lower and more drawn out than the last time he'd spoken to her. She wasn't sure if there was something wrong with him or if people just— _He's_ _ **fatigued**_ _._

She tried to push herself up, but found herself lacking the strength. As she pressed down into whatever it was she was laying on, she felt something dig into her right arm. Leaning back, she saw that there was a tube attached to her arm with tape, and on the end was a needle stuck into her skin. She reached over to pull it out, but the man gently stopped her. "You were pretty dehydrated. The eye-vee's helping you recover." She followed the tube back up to a bag of fluid hanging off a pole. She wasn't familiar with the term, but the 'eye-vee' seemed to be putting water directly into her body.

She began to get a better sense of the room she was in. There were several machines on both sides of her, but none of them were making the beeping sound she was hearing. It seemed like it was actually coming from the other side of a _**curtain**_ to her right. Next to where the woman stood was a cushioned _**chair**_ where the man had been sitting and presumably sleeping. Despite never having been in the room before, there was something naggingly familiar about it, but the feeling slowly drifted away.

The girl opened her mouth to speak, but her throat refused to cooperate and she broke into a coughing fit. Placing his hand on her shoulder to keep her in the _**bed**_ , the man looked at the woman and said, "Water." The woman looked around for a few seconds, then down at the white object in her hands with a scowl. She moved behind the wall to the girl's left and after a short rushing sound, she came back out and gave the man her _**cup**_ before returning to her position by the wall. The man tilted her head up and began to slowly pour the water into her mouth. She gladly accepted the liquid, even as he carefully controlled the flow. The fluid had an odd taste to it, but it wasn't particularly a bad one.

After giving her about half the water in the cup, the man set it aside on a small surface—a _**table**_ —to her right. He fiddled with something on the side of her bed and she felt it begin to bend, pushing her up so she could face them. The man walked back to where he had been before and dragged the chair closer to the bed to sit in it. He leaned forward, and the girl felt her heart beat several times before he spoke. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

The girl swallowed as she tried speaking again. "I don—" She stopped, alarmed by how differently her voice sounded from his. It was much higher pitched and far raspier. "I was in the… desert, and you gave me water. Then I…" _I didn't kill them. What happened?_ "I don't remember after that."

"Can you tell me anything about what happened before we found you?"

"No."

The man leaned back in his chair. "Well, I suppose we should probably introduce ourselves. My name is Oliver Cyprus, and this is my partner, Laurel Tawn." He placed his hand on his chest as he referred to himself before gesturing toward the woman. With an upturn at the corner of his mouth, he added, "You can call her 'Tawny,' if you like."

She frowned at him. "So she can call you 'Mantis,' then?"

Oliver rubbed his neck, where the girl saw he actually had a picture of the insect drawing its foreleg over a pale lone: _**Scar**_. He shrugged. "Maybe not. So, uh, what's your name?"

The girl paused for a moment, trying to find that information somewhere in her mind. She knew it was a label individuals assigned to others to distinguish them from one another, but she didn't think she'd been given one yet. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've never had one before."

Laurel and Oliver looked at each other with… _**confusion**_. The woman arched her eyebrow. "What, like you don't remember?" Her voice was higher pitched like the girl's, but she didn't share the dry rasp.

The girl thought it over again. Her memories of what happened before the two had found her were fragmented, getting worse the further back she went, to the point where she couldn't remember anything. Despite that, she felt certain that her earlier statement was correct. "No," she repeated. "I was never assigned a name." She wasn't sure why the word 'assigned' seemed like the most precise word to use, but it was.

Oliver scratched his cheek. "Well we're going to have to call you something."

"You know," Laurel said, taking a step forward, "with her skin and hair, she kind of reminds me of those trees out northeast of Vale. What are they called…?"

"Birch?" the man offered.

"No, it starts with an 'A,' I think. Like, As… Ass-something."

"Aspen?"

"Yes!" the woman confirmed, snapping her fingers.

Oliver looked back to the girl. "What do you think? Does 'Aspen' work for you?"

She considered it for a moment. It didn't have quite the same ring to it that 'malicious' did, but she supposed it would do. There was something missing, though. "You both—" A tickle in the back of her throat caused her to begin coughing again. After Oliver gave her more of the water, she picked her sentence up where she'd left off. "—have two names."

The man stayed standing as he tried to think of something. "Gray?" he suggested, voice softer than before. Laurel looked at him with a rises eyebrow, and he responded by raising one of his shoulders.

The girl ignored the interaction. _Aspen Gray._ That sounded better, more… _complete_. That would work for her. "I like it." As she spoke, she began to feel a shakiness in her stomach. _**Vomit**_ _._ She repeated the word out loud. The two adults began to panic, looking around the room for something. After a moment, Oliver pointed to a black bin which Laurel grabbed and brought over to hand to the girl. She felt the shakiness push its way up into her throat and, clutching the bin, began to involuntarily relieve her stomach of its contents.

Her body shook for a while as it expelled the watery fluid, and Oliver rubbed her back for the duration. The contact didn't sting like it had in the desert, possibly due to the loose garment she now wore. Instead, it actually felt… _**comforting**_. When her heaving finally stopped, he gave her more water, telling her to rinse her mouth out and spit it into the bin.

Once the process was complete, she leaned back into the bed, finding she was having difficulty keeping her eyes open. "We'll let you get some sleep," Oliver said, stepping away from her.

 _Sleep?_ No, she didn't need sleep. Before she could protest, however, the pair had already left the room. _I don't need…_ Within moments, Aspen had succumbed to unconsciousness, one phrase repeating in her mind: _Aspen Gray._

 _My name is Aspen Gray._

* * *

 **Fun fact: I actually came up with the name 'Aspen Gray' when trying to come up with a name for the doctor in Chapter 16 of my other story, Wayward Son. I liked it too much to waste on a throwaway character, though, so I saved it. Not long after, someone came along and asked if I would be willing to write another story, so I took the opportunity to use the name.**

 **Anyway, that's all I've really got to say for now, other than I'm really enjoying writing this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as well! If you do, I encourage you to share your opinions in a review and follow the story for more! Adieu!**


	2. Chapter 2

There was something about hospitals that Laurel hated. It might have had to do with how quiet it could be with so many people in a relatively small space. Privacy almost seemed like an afterthought to whoever designed the buildings at Shade Academy, and with so many students, it was rare to have a quiet moment in groups larger than two. It also could have stemmed from the smell of bleach and antiseptic that seemed to permeate every surface and corner. She didn't need to be faunus to be able to smell it, though she certainly wouldn't want to be one. In a hospital, that is. Then again, it could have had to do with how cold it was, especially aggravating for someone whose Semblance allowed them to manipulate thermal energy.

There was a _lot_ about hospitals that Laurel hated.

The gunner sipped at her too-hot coffee, enjoying the warmth as she spread it throughout her body. It wasn't a large change, but it helped. She looked up at the holoscreen in front of her, showing an interview regarding the Vytal Festival tournament that would begin in a few days. Laurel would have given anything to go again, to vicariously relive her youth through the students that were competing. Not that she was old or anything, but something or other always seemed to come up. That was the life of a Hunter.

As her eyes watched the screen, she heard the familiar click of her partner's boots coming up behind her. The taller man stopped next to her, crossing his arms as he looked up at the broadcast. "You know, you could go if you wanted to. You're your own Huntress; you don't need to stick around me all the time."

The woman sighed and shook her head. "I know, it's just… It wouldn't feel right."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he said with a faint smile. "Makes me wish we could get the whole team back together, go win the tournament all over again."

Laurel shared the smile as she remembered the victories. "You find out anything about Aspen?"

Oliver's expression twisted into an exasperated frown. "Nothing. No runaways, no missing persons, no villages attacked in weeks; nothing to tell us where she came from."

The gunner mirrored her partner's expression. "Same here. She still doesn't remember anything from before we found her." She took another sip of her coffee, the bitterness blocking out the smell of disinfectant for a few brief moments. "So, now what?"

Oliver rubbed his eyes, clearly running on fumes. It wasn't unusual for him to run himself a little ragged following missions involving displaced persons. Some part of him just felt the need to help these people who needed it most. It was admirable, if a little foolish. "I'm honestly not sure. As far as we know, she doesn't even have a legal identity." He rubbed his face. "Hell, she doesn't even have any clothes to wear!"

"Not to mention a place to stay," Laurel noted, taking another sip of coffee. She offered the cup to her partner, but not before siphoning a few degrees first.

He gratefully accepted and took a huge swig of the now-cooled liquid. "I'd let her stay at my place—you know I would—but with the renovations, I barely have room for myself."

"So, you think I should let her stay with me?" Laurel inferred with a grimace. Nothing against the girl, but Laurel wasn't exactly a people person.

Oliver shrugged. "It'll only be a few days. You've got the room. Plus, she's not that much taller than you, so your clothes would probably work for her until we can get her something of her own to wear."

The woman pinched the bridge of her nose. _Why do I let you talk me into this stuff?_ He was right though; as sparsely furnished as it was, her apartment did have the room. She could count the number of actual visitors she'd had on one hand, and now the girl would bring it up to a nice round five. "Fine," she conceded, "but I'm not paying for her clothes."

Her partner grimaced tiredly, but chuckled anyway. "That's fair, I guess." Finishing off what was left of the coffee, he stretched and tossed the cup into a nearby trashcan. "So, should we go see what Miss Gray thinks of all this?"

 _Right. Gray._ To most anyone else, the choice of name might have seemed random. The 'Aspen' part certainly had been, but Laurel knew where 'Gray' had come from and, while she had her initial reservations, she had oddly grown to be okay with it. She gave him a wry smile. "First good idea you've had all day," she joked.

The pair made their way down several halls to where Aspen was recovering. As they entered the room, however, the girl was nowhere to be seen. Oliver immediately began asking nurses if she had been taken somewhere, but as Laurel stood in the room, a flutter of the dividing curtain caught her eye and she heard the faint bustling sounds of the city. With a sinking feeling in her gut, she slowly walked to the other side of the room, her tennis shoes creaking quietly against the tile floor.

The second bed was empty, the patient having left earlier that day, but the window was open. There, sitting in the frame with her legs dangling out over the six-story drop, was Aspen. She simply stared out into the city, uncaring of the breeze that caused her hospital gown and hair to flutter against her body as her eyes scanned the skyline. Laurel slowly approached the girl, careful not to do anything to startle her. "Aspen?" she asked softly.

The girl looked back at the woman over her shoulder, crimson eyes meeting Laurel's orange. Despite the lack of emotion in her face—or, perhaps, because of it—there was something about the way Aspen looked at her that caused the woman to stop in her tracks. The black-haired girl turned back to the city, keeping her hands resting on the window frame. "There are so many people," she said flatly. Her eyes narrowed slightly as they flitted across the view before them. "All moving and pressing at once, packed together into such a small space."

Behind her, Laurel heard Oliver reenter the room. She glanced back at him and he froze. They communicated silently, exchanging looks as the man worked out what the situation was. Cursing under his breath, he ran his hand through his hair and took a quiet step forward, but Laurel put up her hand to stop him. _I've got this._ He nodded and stepped back. Turning back to Aspen, who was still looking off into the distance, the woman searched for something to say to the girl. "Yes, there are… quite a lot of people in this city. Millions, actually." She took a slow step forward. "Aspen, why are you sitting in the window?"

The girl looked down to her perch, mouthing the word as if she'd never heard it before. For all Laurel knew, she hadn't. Aspen had several quirks—that was the polite word for it—about her, even outside her appearance. When she spoke, she would pause before certain words the first time she used them, as if she had to remember what they meant. More interesting, though, was how incredibly fast she'd recovered from her time in the desert. Despite what should have been a serious sunburn, her skin had already faded back to what the Hunters had assumed was her natural unnaturally-pale hue, not to mention the rapid rehydration that had surprised even those tending to her recovery.

Laurel snapped out of her thoughts as Aspen looked up at her. "Should I not be?" she asked, her neutral tone very nearly at odds with her innocent words.

The woman shook her head. "No, you shouldn't. Not this far up, at least." Aspen made no sign of acknowledgment other than spinning around and placing her bare feet on the cold floor. As the girl stood, Laurel let out a small breath of relief and began to lead her back to her bed. Dealing with Aspen felt like trying to deal with a child, albeit one who was two inches taller than her. She gave Oliver a hard look where Aspen couldn't see her. _I better not have to deal with this for very long._

(-)

Aspen stared out at the city, feeling the warm breeze washing over her. There were just… so many people. She couldn't see them, but she could tell they were there. She could feel them, an oppressive force bearing down on her from almost every direction, shifting and shuffling about. Oppressive... was that the right word? She supposed not; she was actually becoming accustomed to the feeling.

"Aspen?" The girl felt Laurel approaching her before the woman even spoke. She turned her head to look at her. "Are you alright?" She nodded, having worked out that the gesture meant 'yes.' The woman gave her a small smile, though Aspen could feel a low level of… _**frustration**_ coming off of her. "Alright, well come on. Let's get this over with."

The black-haired girl turned completely from the window and made her way toward the woman. This activity—"shopping," Laurel had called it—was something Aspen had decided she did _not_ enjoy. Interestingly, her escort didn't seem to be enjoying it either, but had insisted that the girl needed her own clothes, a sentiment which they also agreed upon.

Aspen was currently wearing a strange tunic—a "sundress"—that Laurel had given to her. It was a bright orange similar to the top the woman was wearing, decorated with several yellow _**flowers**_. Aspen despised it, but all other options had been equally unappealing. That wasn't even to mention the footwear she'd been given: loose, floppy things that snapped against her feet as she walked.

Proper _**shoes**_ had been the first thing they'd picked up. Aspen had opted for a flexible pair similar to Laurel's, though in black rather than white. Of course, she'd wanted to wear them immediately, to rid herself of the ridiculous pair she wore now, but Laurel had said they needed to "buy" them first. They had then proceeded with the increasingly dull chore of walking around and selecting various other articles of clothing and—worse still—trying them on. After they had everything for Aspen, however, Laurel had said she needed to buy a new poncho, further prolonging the trip. Now that she had it, though, the shopping seemed to finally be over.

As Laurel led her to the area near the front of the store where the buying took place, something caught Aspen's eye and caused her to stop. A fake person, headless and with smooth white skin, stood on a table with its handless arms at its sides. What had the girl's attention, though, was the jacket it wore. It was different than others she'd seen, made of a lighter fabric and with a hood sewn directly onto it. A silver line ran up the middle, bisecting the field of black. There was nothing particularly special about it from what she could tell, yet something in its design drew her toward it.

Without a word, she stepped over to the table and lifted one of the folded garments that sat at the model's feet—rather, where its feet would have been it if had any. As she raised the piece of cloth up, it unfolded and she was left holding a jacket identical to the one above her head, only split down the middle. Swinging it around, she extended her arms into the _**sleeves**_ and brought the front pieces together. The jacket was tight, even without being properly closed, but it felt _right_ to her, as if the pressing feeling of all the people in the city had taken physical form.

"Are you sure you want that?" Laurel asked, having noticed that the girl had stopped following her. "A hoodie might be a little warm for Vacuo this time of year." She paused as she thought. "Or any time of year, really."

Aspen slowly removed the 'hoodie,' shifting her shoulders to free her arms. Its presence was instantly missed, as the cool air inside the store rested on her bare skin. She looked down at the garment in her hands. She didn't care about the heat; she _needed_ this. Carefully refolding it, she clutched it to her chest to indicate she had made her choice.

Laurel stared at her with an odd look, as if her entire face had been twisted in one direction. Eventually, the woman shrugged and turned back toward the front of the store. Aspen followed after her, only releasing her hold on the black cloth to allow the short, gray-haired woman behind the—… _ **desk**_?—to flash her light over the card attached to it. Then it went into a _**bag**_ with some of her other clothes.

Aspen tracked the bag as Laurel carried it out of the store. Once they were in the warm, open air, the woman set her burden down to pull her new poncho out of one of the bags. It was a burnt orange color, with a yellow line design running around it, similar to the one she'd had in the desert— _what had happened to that one?_ As she swung it over her head, Aspen reached inside the bag she knew held her hoodie and pulled the garment out.

Repeating what she'd done inside, she slipped her arms into the sleeves and pulled it around her. She brought the front pieces together and attempted to seal it like she had seen on the model, but she couldn't quite figure the mechanism out. With a sigh, Laurel, now covered by her poncho, stepped over and inserted the end of the right metal strip into the odd device at the bottom of the left one. Once it was locked in, she lifted it halfway up, meshing the two strips of metal with an oddly satisfying _zip_.

Aspen looked at her reflection in the store window, clothes now sharply divided between black and colorful, with a touch of orange on her chest remaining uncovered. Somehow, the hoodie managed to make the rest of the outfit _**tolerable**_ in her eyes. She looked down to the flip-floppy shoes on her feet.

 _Mostly_ tolerable.

(- -)

Back at Laurel's "apartment," Aspen stood staring at herself in the mirror, wearing nothing save the pair of undergarments the woman had bought for her. She had gone into her temporary room to change into the new clothes, but had been distracted by her own image reflected back at her. It was the first time she'd been able to get a clear look at her entire body since waking up in the hospital, and something seemed… wrong.

She took a step forward, and her reflection did the same. Red eyes stared back at her, mimicking every small movement as she scanned her doppelgänger's face. It wasn't the mirror that was bothering Aspen—in fact, ever since she had first recalled the word, she knew exactly how they worked—but her own image. She was… hairless. There were the long black fibers on her head, of course, but for the most part, the rest of her body was devoid of any noticeable hair. She wasn't sure why it bothered her so much, though; Laurel seemed to have the same amount that she did, after all. Perhaps it was because Oliver had more—on his face and hands, at least. No, that wasn't it.

As she continued to inspect her smooth skin, she noticed short hairs on her arm rise an instant before she felt the ever-present force on her body grow slightly more powerful. The feeling shifted often as people moved around, but she recognized this particular… _**aura**_. It was Oliver.

Through the door, Aspen could hear the man knock on the main door and Laurel moving to open it. Pulling herself away from the mirror, the girl turned toward the bed, where she had laid out the clothes she wanted to wear. As she picked up the pair of blue jeans, she began listening to the two adults talking in the other room.

" _Hey. Where's Aspen?_ " That was Oliver's voice.

" _She's in the guest room getting changed._ "

" _Ah. How'd it go?_ "

She could hear Laurel sigh. " _It was… not something I want to do again._ "

" _That bad?_ "

" _Not 'bad,' necessarily, just… Imagine having to keep watch for Noct._ "

" _I did that once. Guy sucked the joy out of everything, even that._ " Oliver paused. " _Point taken._ "

Aspen secured the button on her pants and picked up her shirt. It was primarily white, though it had a design of a vaguely familiar creature on the front. The label on the table had called it a 'Beowolf,' but she had no idea what that was.

" _You know, when we started at Shade, I thought that at this age we'd be out fighting and killing giant Grim, not… babysitting._ "

" _Well, we're hunters. That's what w—._ "

Aspen tuned the man out, shirt halfway over her body. _Hunter._ She liked that word. Better than 'malicious,' even. She knew what it meant: out in the wilderness, tracking things, taking them down. _Killing_ them. She hadn't wanted to kill Laurel or Oliver since the desert, but if there were things—'Grim'—that they were hunting, then they must have a reason to want to kill them. That was when Aspen made the decision that she wanted to be a hunter.

Quickly finishing with her shirt, she began working on putting a pair of socks on her feet as she resumed listening to the conversation the two hunters were having.

"— _dred and seventy-nine lee-en, by the way,_ " Laurel said.

" _For what?_ "

" _You said you would pay for her clothes, remember?_ "

" _Yeah, but that's a lot of money for just her clothes._ "

" _Poncho._ "

Oliver grumbled before he spoke again. " _Fine… here you go._ "

Aspen slipped her feet into the pair of black shoes they'd bought. Staring at them, she frowned as she tried to remember how to tie the laces. Laurel had shown her but, unlike most other things, it just didn't come naturally.

" _So… please tell me you've got something._ "

" _I wish I did, but… if she's eighteen, she's legally an adult. She's on her own._ "

Laurel made a sound of disapproval. " _Except for us?_ " Oliver hummed. The woman sighed again. _"Look… I know this isn't the most delicate way to put this, but_ _I think something might be wrong with her._ "

Aspen stopped in the middle of tying her shoe. _What does she mean there's something wrong with me?_ She looked up into the mirror. Was it really the hair? _That can't possibly be it… can it?_ After all she was a - - - just like them. She frowned. Why couldn't she think of the word? She always found the right word. Even if it didn't come to her immediately, she should have known it within a few seconds. What were they?

What was she?

"— _ost her memory. That's not something that you just recover from. She just needs time to readjust._ "

 _Readjust. Yes. No. I don't need to readjust. I need to_ _ **prove**_ _myself. Prove that there's nothing wrong with me._ Finishing her shoes, Aspen stood and looked at herself in the mirror again. Only one thing remained. Grabbing her hoodie, she swung it around her body, extending her arms into the sleeves in a single smooth motion. Meshing the ends of the two metal strips together, she grabbed the slider and _zipped_ it up her chest, stopping midway.

Opening the door to her room, the black-haired girl made her way down the hallway, passing one other door before rounding the corner into the main room the two adults currently occupied. They both looked up at her as she entered, neither giving any indication that they knew she'd been listening to their conversation. "Oh, hey!" Oliver said, looking her over with his brown eyes. "Looks good. The hoodie seems like it might be a little tight, but—"

"I want to be a hunter," Aspen interrupted flatly.

Both adults' eyes widened and they looked at each other. Oliver scratched the top of his head as he turned back to her. "Uh, alright… That's great and all, but it takes years of training to even qualify for training."

Aspen narrowed her eyes. That didn't make sense. She _needed_ to be a hunter; she needed to prove she could do it. _How?_ She thought back to what Laurel had said about being a hunter and found her answer. "Let me fight you." If hunters fought and killed whatever 'Grim' were, then all she had to do to prove she could fight Grim was to fight and ki—fight and _beat_ hunters.

The pair in front of her both frowned. After a few moments of silence, Oliver's eyes widened and he smiled. "Tell you what; if you can beat me in a fight, the two of us will take you to the Vital Festival so you can see some hunters-in-training your age in action. Deal?"

The girl considered the offer. She'd heard the phrase before, but she wasn't sure what the 'Vital Festival' was. The man had implied, however, that she would be able to see hunter-students her age fighting Grim. If she could fight the Grim too, maybe those who taught the students would teach her as well.

"Deal."

* * *

 **I'm a little surprised that I don't have much to say about this chapter. Perhaps it's because this is still an early chapter, and the story is still developing. I suppose the one thing I would bring up, now that I've actually called it out in the story, is that writing consistently for Aspen is an interesting process. For most characters, consistency means maintaining their "voice," but for her it's more about the words—which ones she knows innately, which ones she's "learned" and has to "learn," and which ones she actually** _ **can't**_ **"learn." It brings up a lot of questions, like, "Would she learned this word yet?" "Would she know what this word means?" "How would she hear this word if she wasn't familiar with it?"**

 **That's all I've got. Anyway, if you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to leave a review to let me know, or—just as good—follow the story so you don't miss anything. Au revoir!**


	3. Chapter 3

Oliver leaned casually against the wall, idly spinning the chamber on one half of Venation as he waited for the pair of teens to finish their sparring match. With the Vytal Festival's fast-approaching tournament, it wasn't uncommon to find people still using facilities like this one for last-minute training, even out here in Vacuo. Of course, he wasn't really in a position to judge their motives. Perhaps their school wouldn't actually let them go. Maybe they weren't even students and just liked to train for self-defense. Or, like him, they could have been settling a bet.

Beside him, Aspen stood quietly, arms crossed. She wasn't antsy like she could have been, but he still picked up on an air of anticipation as she watched the movements of the two fighters. In all honesty, Oliver felt bad for the girl. His skills against other Hunters may have atrophied slightly over the years with only Laurel to train with, but he still had years of experience over the black-haired girl. Actually, it didn't look like she'd had _any_ experience at all. While she was certainly not out of shape, she didn't have the physique of someone who'd put countless hours of work into honing their body.

After several more minutes of kicking and punching, the two fighters on the training floor finally yielded to the buzzer that marked the end of their session. Pushing himself off the wall, Oliver snapped his hand cannon into its holster as he made his way toward the center of the small arena, Aspen ahead of him and Laurel just behind.

Laurel had not been happy with his decision to make a bet with the girl, nor with the fact that he'd roped her into it as well. What his long-time partner didn't know, however, was that he'd been planning on taking _her_ to the Vytal Festival for some time already. It would bite into his savings a bit, but he was willing to pay for Aspen as well, and would take her regardless of how the fight turned out. They couldn't watch after her forever, but if she really wanted to be a Hunter, maybe they could start her on the path.

The three took their positions around the circle that marked the center of the arena, with Oliver and Aspen facing each other and Laurel standing off to the side. "Alright, this is how it's going to work," the orange-haired woman affirmed, crossing her arms beneath her poncho. "You'll be going for pins, three pins is a win." She looked at Aspen to make sure she understood the rule. "A pin is considered any position I consider to be one which the defending person cannot get out of." Aspen nodded, a slight bounce in her foot betraying her impatience. Frowning, Laurel backed off to the edge of the area. "Alright, go."

Oliver stood still, keeping Venation in its holsters. He wanted to go easy on the girl, so he was going to let her make the first move. Aspen lunged forward, swiping at him with her fist. She'd had an opportunity to pick from a variety of weapons, but she'd instead opted to use her bare hands and even wore the same store-bought outfit—not that she had much else to wear. All of this only served to strengthen his theory that she didn't have any fighting experience, which made her sudden speed that much more surprising.

The Hunter leaned backward, narrowly avoiding the clawed fingers that threatened to remove his eyes. The move was followed by a diagonal slash at his chest from the girl's other arm, but he easily stepped back to avoid any damage. It wasn't until she launched forward toward his throat that the two actually made contact. Slipping to her weak side, he grabbed her outstretched hand with his own while wrapping his other arm around her neck, trapping her. Laurel called the pin.

Releasing her with a small push to separate them, Oliver let Aspen stumble forward. As she gained her footing, she reached up and unzipped her hoodie. The Hunter frowned mentally; the whole round had lasted about five seconds. He didn't want to be too hard on the girl, but suppressing years of sparring instinct was harder than he thought it would be. _I'll let her get the next one._

Squaring up, he once again let Aspen make the first move. She hadn't seemed to learn from her mistakes, rushing him again with wild punches and swipes, but the speed with which she moved was remarkable. There was a sort of fluidity in her attack, he noted as he stepped around an uncontrolled lunge that nearly left her stumbling. Her form was rough and was evidently self-taught, but it was there. Smirking to himself, Oliver decided to stop dodging everything and caught an attempted kick between his arm and ribs.

He immediately regretted the decision as he was sent tumbling to the side. Managing to regain his balance before he came to a stop, his hand reflexively went to his ribs. His Aura had protected him against any actual damage, but the hit had still hurt like hell. He'd been kicked harder, of course, but such events almost always involved some sort of weapon amplifying the strike. His thoughts went back to his education, the physics classes relating mass and acceleration to force, but he quickly pushed them off to focus on the matter at hand.

Taking advantage of her opponent's stunned state, Aspen dashed forward and swung her leg up high to bring it down on his head. Oliver wasn't about to make the same mistake twice, however, and swiftly unholstered his hand cannons. One batted the incoming leg aside as he stepped to the side and the other came up to point at the girl herself. The gunslinger hesitated, however, suddenly realizing that he didn't know if she even had her Aura unlocked to protect her. Aspen punished his uncertainty by delivering a spinning kick to his knees, effectively sweeping his legs out from under him. As he hit the ground, she leapt on top of him, hand at his throat.

Laurel called it from the side. "Pin!" It took a second, but the girl moved away, allowing Oliver to stand up. As he rose, he eyed her carefully. She _had_ to have her Aura unlocked in order to move that fast and hit that hard. Despite his intentions, he hadn't actually let her take that one; she did it on her own, even if he had underestimated her. He needed to be more careful.

Keeping both halves of Venation ready, he squared up with Aspen again. Her expression was focused, not giving any indication that she was happy with the way the last round had gone. Interestingly, she held off attacking, waiting for _him_ to make a move. Evidently, she was testing different strategies. _Well, I don't really want to disappoint her, now do I?_

Oliver pulled up one hand cannon and fired a quick shot at her, his concerns about the status of her Aura alleviated. That didn't mean he was going to risk killing her on a hunch. As the shot travelled toward her leg, Aspen swiftly moved aside, dodging it completely in an impressive display of reflexes. The Hunter pulled up his other gun and began firing more non-lethal shots, putting the girl's speed and agility to the test as she pushed towards him.

Amazingly, not a single round hit her and, within seconds, she was right in front of him. He fired one last time, but somehow she managed to once again sidestep, and the bullet passed harmlessly in front of her face. Reaching up, Aspen snapped one hand against his wrist and the other against the weapon, disarming him. Throwing the other half into the air, he caught the loose weapon with his now-free hand and spun around to strike the girl with it. She sprang backward to avoid the blow, giving Oliver room to snap up his abandoned hand cannon before it could hit the ground.

Fully armed once again, Oliver decided to test the girl's adaptability. Swinging them in front of himself, he brought the tops edges of the guns together, locking them into a single piece. A grip extended out toward him from the center of the joined weapon, while the rest extended out into a blade, just over three-and-a-half feet long from the cross-guard formed by the cannons' grips.

The Hunter gave the claymore a slow spin, Aspen staring wide-eyed at the weapon's transformed state. He swung in a broad arc, keeping things simple as he tested the limits of the girl's skills. She took an unsteady step backward and he pressed the advantage, crossing the distance in a second and knocking her down with his shoulder. There was no time for her to move before the blade was by her neck.

"Pin."

Oliver couldn't suppress a smile as he stepped back and allowed her to stand. The girl did have potential, and with the right training may actually be able to become a Huntress, but at the moment she seemed too easily startled by unexpected changes in combat. He still had a couple more aces up his sleeve and could—

 _Wait, wasn't I going to go easy on her? I mean, she's actually doing well on her own, but I'm treating this like an actual sparring match with someone at my skill level. This fight doesn't even matter, so why am I even doing this?_

Oliver pulled himself from his thoughts as Aspen began circling around the center of the training field. He moved with her, keeping Venation low enough to block any attack easily. Sure enough, she suddenly stepped toward him, aiming a fist at his chest. He brought his sword up, catching the strike on the flat of his blade, supporting it with his left hand. Once again, however, he'd underestimated her strength and the punch pushed him back several inches.

They stood that way for several seconds, each trying to overpower the other. Oliver considered using his Semblance to help push back, but opted to hold that card for later. Using Aspen's off-center position to his advantage, the gunslinger removed his supporting hand and spun around, aiming to catch the girl with his elbow as she stumbled forward. As soon as the opposing force was removed, however, Aspen had dropped to the ground, using her momentum to roll forward.

With the girl out of range, the Hunter swiftly collapsed Venation down, splitting it back into his two hand cannons. He let off another volley of shots, but, once again the girl avoided every round fired her way. She rushed forward, coming at Oliver from his left as he attempted to track her. Dipping under his arm, Aspen collided with him in a tackle before, with seemingly no effort, lifting him up and slamming him into the ground, back-first. Oliver's world blurred, but he soon found himself once more lying underneath the girl.

Laurel called the pin, but as she rolled off him, Oliver felt Aspen take the weapon from his hand. He rose quickly to his feet, getting eyes on the girl in case she tried anything under-handed. He wasn't sure why she would, considering she actually stood a good chance of winning the fight on her own, but the way she was carefully inspecting the hand cannon put him a little on edge. Despite his reservations, though, she merely turned it over in her hands instead of trying to use it against him.

Carefully watching the girl, Oliver took the short break to reload the weapon he still had possession of. He'd nearly exhausted their magazines, so even if Aspen didn't give it back she wouldn't be able to do much with it. Unless she did something unexpected which, of course, she did.

While probing the top of the handgun, she suddenly ripped her hand down its center. The weapon unfolded itself, half a handle spiraling out the bottom and half a blade extending out the top. The inside edge of the sword was jagged, the hooked locks exposed without the cannon's other half.

As she gave the weapon an experimental swing, Aspen smiled for the first time during the fight. It was the first time he'd seen her smile at all, and it caused a chill to run up Oliver's spine. Venation wasn't even supposed to _do_ that, so she'd either broken it or figured out a way to bypass the activating mechanisms built into the second weapon. In either case, she'd figured out how it worked in less than thirty seconds. Even with her natural skills, though, the weapon posed little threat in her hands given its unbalanced and cumbersome design.

Not wanting to risk damage to his other handgun, the Hunter decided not to attempt a recreation of Aspen's feat. He snapped the cylinder back into the body of the weapon, preparing himself for the final round. No more going easier on her; he was putting everything into this fight. Aspen seemed to be in a similar mindset, holding her sword at the ready, however awkwardly.

Oliver took the initiative, dashing forward to get within the girl's reach. She reacted quickly and stepped to the side, with the weapon held out for her opponent to run into. Seeing the blade, the man dropped to his knees and slid beneath it, firing up at Aspen as he moved. The stolen weapon moved impossibly fast, deflecting the bullet back down between her legs. Spinning around, she thrust the blade toward the man, wielding it in one hand. Alarmed by her sudden skill with an impractical weapon, Oliver stopped the blade's momentum with his hand cannon and kicked up at the girl's wrist. His boot connected and launched the weapon up over her head, leaving her vulnerable. He took the opportunity to shoot at her again, and this time, despite her speed, he saw a split appear on her sleeve, proof of a graze.

The girl didn't even flinch, but her face turned dark as she reached up to pull the sword out of the air in a left-handed reverse grip. Keeping her front toward Oliver, she slashed at him, not stopping even as he ducked. Continuing her spin, she brought her right foot around and aimed it at his head. He managed to divert it with his arm, but the sword came down again and forced him to roll away. With her opponent now on the ground, Aspen pounced, spinning the weapon to drop it down on him.

Her attack was halted with a flash as Oliver activated his Semblance. A barrier of white light shone at the point of contact, just a foot away from his face. Through it, he could feel her pressing down on it, and a bead of sweat formed on his temple from the exertion. Behind him, he heard Laurel call the pin, but Aspen continued trying to press, the light shining brighter with the increase in force. It was clear she'd lost herself to the fight, and while he couldn't blame her—he'd seen it far too many times to be judgmental—he did feel sorry for her.

The girl suddenly leapt backward, narrowly avoiding being struck by the massive piece of metal that was swung at her head. As soon as he was free, Oliver brought his legs over his head and kicked himself back up to his feet. Moving up on his right, Laurel kept her eyes on the girl as she kept Timekeeper's spiked flail head spinning in a tight circle. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm great," Oliver said, also looking at Aspen. She was smiling once again, but her smile was now more… manic than it had been before. "Alright, Aspen," he said casually as he stepped toward her, snapping his weapon into its holster. "You beat me. We'll take you to the Vytal Festival, just like I—" The girl cut his sentence off with a swing of her sword, forcing him back. "What the hell?!" he shouted, checking his coat for damage.

Aspen glowered at the man, a far cry from her… Well, happier wasn't the right word, but she had at least been smiling. Kind of. "I'm not done yet," she growled, tightening her grip on the spiraled hilt of her weapon.

"What are you talking about? The deal was that we'd fight to three pins and you just got your third, so we're done!"

Long black hair drifted in front of the girl's face as she shook her head. "I need to fight both of you to win."

The two Hunters shared a glance. _What the hell is she talking about?_ Oliver was fairly certain the deal had been for her to beat _him_ , and she hadn't protested when Laurel stepped aside to officiate. _Why does she want to make things more difficult than they have to be?_

Laurel was apparently thinking the same thing, but without her partner's reservations. "Well, if she wants us to double-team her, let's double-team her," she suggested, maintaining Timekeeper's circular path. "No holding back."

Oliver winced at the poor phrasing, but decided it wasn't the time to comment on it. "Alright, fine," he agreed, patting her a small push on the back of her shoulder. "Go at it then."

The woman faltered as she moved forward, her flail breaking from its loop as her arm stopped moving. "Uh, what? I'm pretty sure she meant _both_ of us. As in at the same time."

"I know what she meant," Oliver said, gesturing toward his single weapon, "but seeing as I'm not going to be able to do much with just one gun, it's your show." While it was true that there wasn't much he could do without both halves of Venation, that didn't mean he wasn't going to fight. He just hoped Laurel understood his intentions.

It took less than a moment for the Huntress to figure it out and she nodded, turning back to Aspen. She took a few small, shuffling steps forward and swung her flail in a downward arc, the spike in the end traveling straight for Aspen's head. Predictably, the girl rolled forward to avoid it, lashing up at the connecting chain to give herself more room. Laurel pulled back on her weapon before it could hit the ground, bringing it flying back at her opponent from behind. As the girl dodged again, the Huntress shifted her grip on the handle and forced the spiked end up into the air above her. Spinning, Laurel fired a single shot from the back of the weapon and slammed the spike into the ground, narrowly missing her target.

Aspen pushed her opening, lunging forward with a thrust of her sword toward the woman's side. Laurel skipped back, however, before crouching low and leaping upward. As she flipped, she locked the handle into the flail head and pulled it up out of the ground, swinging it at the sword in the process. Aspen tried to pull her weapon away, but one of the locking hooks opposite the blade got caught on the chain running between the Timekeeper's handle, trapping it.

With Aspen's back now to him, Oliver made his move and dashed forward, wrapping his arms around her. "Dammit, Aspen! Stop!" The girl struggled for a few seconds against both the Hunter and the chain on her sword before deciding to focus on one at a time. Reversing her grip on the weapon, she slammed its point deep into the ground. With both hands free, she reached up and grabbed his right arm, ducked forward and flipped the taller man over her shoulders.

Oliver rolled up to his feet in time to see Aspen yank the sword out of the ground, spinning it to free the chain despite Laurel's efforts to keep it secured. Pulling the weapon's other half from its holster, he launched himself forward and fired at the girl's head. He had no doubt he would have missed again, but he wasn't trying to hit her. The stolen sword flicked up to deflect the round, but it never reached that far, striking the barrier created by Oliver's Semblance with a bright flash.

Aspen stumbled backward, blinded by the sudden light, allowing Oliver to get in close. Snapping his handgun back into its holster, he reached up with one hand to grab the sword handle and brought his other elbow down on the crook of her arm. The blow forced her to release the weapon back to its owner, and Oliver pushed himself backward to give Laurel room to come back in with Timekeeper.

While she kept Aspen busy, Oliver inspected the sword. Despite its fearsome appearance, it was horribly impractical. As he'd expected, the weapon was entirely unbalanced without its mirrored counterpart, especially with the grip sitting directly beneath the inside edge, causing the blade to constantly pull downward. The hilt made it almost entirely unusable on its own, with coiled, semi-cylindrical pieces leaving a gap for the other half to fill. It was so awkward and uncomfortable to hold, he had no idea how Aspen had wielded it so proficiently.

Wrapping his fingers around the half-cross-guard, the Hunter hit a switch and the weapon reformed itself in his hand. _Hopefully she didn't actually break it_ , he mused wryly, pulling out the other hand cannon and joining the two halves together. Something inside clicked and stuttered, but the weapon soon sprang to life. Placing both hands on the once-again-complete sword's grip, he rejoined the fight.

(-)

Aspen hadn't expected just how much… _**fun**_ fighting was. Even the frustration of how easily she had been pinned couldn't dull the thrill of combat, of coming within a fraction of an inch of drawing blood time and time again. In fact, it was the bullet passing mere inches away from her face that had sealed it for her. In her brief recollection of time, she had never felt so… _ **alive**_. After that moment, it had almost become like a game to her to draw out everything Oliver had to give her: his transforming weapons and the mysterious flashing shield he'd used to stop her. And the _sword_ … She felt comfortable fighting unarmed, but using the sword just felt _right_.

She had unfortunately lost control when her hoodie had gotten damaged, but, if anything, that had only pushed her further, made her realize that fighting Oliver on his own wasn't enough. If she was going to prove herself to Oliver and Laurel—truly prove to them that she could be a hunter like them—she needed to fight them both. As it turned out, convincing them to fight her had been the easy part.

Oliver's sword split the air above Aspen as she ducked forward. Dropping onto her hands, she kicked back in an attempt to hit one of the man's legs, but she had as much success in her attack as he had. Something exploded above her and the girl rolled aside just as the spike on Laurel's weapon crashed into the ground where she had previously lain.

The shockwave was strong enough to accelerate Aspen's roll, forcing her to dig her hands into the dirt— _Why did they put a giant patch of dirt in the room for people to fight on?_ —to stop herself. As soon as she had the traction, she launched herself forward, back to her two opponents. Oliver held his sword at the ready, its tip pointed at her, while Laurel was working on removing her fail from the earth. _She's_ _ **vulnerable**_ _._

As soon as Aspen was close enough, Oliver twirled his sword and took a swing at chest level. The blade moved slowly as the girl leapt up, spinning over the weapon. She felt it clip several of her hairs, but didn't pay it any attention. Focusing as much power as she could into her right leg, she kicked out at Laurel, catching her in the side of the head. One of Oliver's handguns fired behind her and she felt something large and heavy— _the sword_ —crash into her back.

The girl hit the ground hard, her breath knocked from her lungs. She wasn't given any time to recover, however, as the man continued to attack her the instant she was on her feet. It was all Aspen could do to avoid the flashing blade, the random gunshots making its movements faster and unpredictable. The assault suddenly stopped, and as Oliver leapt back, Aspen heard the sound of a chain swinging and saw the flail head coming at her. Still winded, she knew she wasn't going to be able to avoid it, so instead she put her arms out and caught it.

Aspen felt her muscles burn and her bones shake as the massive weapon collided with her hands, but it didn't feel like anything had been damaged. The force of the impact still pushed her back several feet, though, and when she finally came to a rest, the spike was less than an inch from her chest. Looking up, she saw both Oliver and Laurel looking at her with wide eyes; that was… _**surprise**_. Aspen didn't give it much thought as she wrapped the chain around her arm and began to pull, causing the two hunters to return their focus to the fight.

Rather than pull back on the weapon as Aspen expected, Laurel spun toward her, bringing the smaller, cylindrical weight on the opposite end of the chain with her. The girl leaned back to avoid the mass, but was forced to buck herself forward again to dodge an attack from Oliver. Now between the two fighters, Aspen felt the chain around her arm grow cold, almost unbearably so. At the same time, however, she noticed Laurel's skin beginning to shine— _ **sweat**_.

Recognizing her advantage, Aspen rolled to the side to avoid another of Oliver's swings before putting both hands on the chain and pulling as hard as she could. Laurel's grip held for a moment, but the handle quickly slipped out of her hand. Catching the shaft in her free hand, Aspen brought it up to block Oliver's sword. The two pieces of metal grated against each other for several seconds before the man pulled away.

Aspen freed her arm from the chain, letting the heavy mass fall into open space. Finally getting a good look at the details of the weapon, she noticed it shared a number of physical similarities to the gun Laurel had been carrying in the desert. _Does that mean this one transforms too?_ Oliver didn't give her much time to think about it, though, coming at her with a back-handed swing from behind her. Twisting around, Aspen leaned back just enough for the sword to pass over her head, but swung the large mass up at the same time.

The chain wrapped itself tightly around the blade, and the weight of Aspen's flail dragged the weapon out of Oliver's grip. The haft soon found its way into the girl's left hand, giving her full control of all the weapons in the fight. In an instant, she visually scanned the two weapons and _**deduced**_ how each one worked. Adjusting her grips, she pressed a button with each hand. In her left, the sword collapsed down on itself, reforming one pistol around her hand while the other fell to the dirt, and in her right, the three pieces of the flail pulled themselves together, splintering and shifting into the shape of the gun from the desert. Within seconds of disarming Oliver, the girl was pointing both weapons at their owners.

Aspen felt her chest rise and fall as she sucked in breath. Her heart was pounding. Oliver was saying something, but she couldn't make out the words. She'd done it. She'd beaten them with their own weapons. It didn't feel right though. It felt… _**incomplete**_. Her fingers itched. Her heart stopped. She took a sharp breath in and pulled.


	4. Chapter 4

Fire lanced out from Aspen's fingers, spearing the two hunters with no resistance. She looked to her left where the flames had struck Oliver between the eyes. Neat little blobs of blood had shot out, hanging suspended in the air even as the fire continued to pass through the man's skull. Aspen looked to her right, but was disappointed to see that the scene was not quite as… _ **clean**_. Multiple licks of flame had torn through Laurel's chest, casting a crimson line up her body. The _**ichor**_ —that was a nice word, _ichor_ —was spraying everywhere: no control.

Dropping her weapons, Aspen turned back to Oliver's body, suspended in midair. Reaching up, she pricked the surface of one of the bloody orbs with her finger. The liquid clung to the digit, warm and… _**tempting**_. As she brought it close to her mouth, there was a wet _thump_ behind her. Turning, she saw Laurel's body lying in the dirt, a pool of blood already beginning to form. She looked back just in time to see Oliver hit the ground as well. The girl scowled. She looked back down at her finger and was further annoyed to see that the blood had disappeared as well.

Indeed, the entire scene had vanished, leaving Aspen alone in a dark hallway. It was wide—several arm-lengths across—and the ceiling rose above her further than she could see. Despite there not being any discernable light source, a section of the path several yards ahead of her was lit up. She started walking toward it, but she didn't seem to be getting closer. Feeling her frustration beginning to heat up, she transitioned into a jog. Rather than the light getting closer, however, it began to move away from her. She broke into a sprint, pushing herself to move as fast as she possibly could. The light streaked ahead of her, rapidly shrinking to a single point before vanishing.

Aspen stopped chasing the light, coming to a stop. Staring out into the distance, she sunk to her knees. She wasn't sure why she had wanted to be in the light so badly; the darkness wasn't so bad. No, it was; it… it was _cold_. _**Lonely**_. She slumped backward, landing on her back. Light was so warm. It was friendly. Why had it left her? She didn't want to be alone… did she? She didn't know.

As she lay there, Aspen's body began to feel warmer. Slowly, the darkness peeled away, replaced by a blinding light. It had come back! She stared up at the light, a feeling of… _**joy**_ creeping into her heart, but, as it grew brighter, she was forced to shut her eyes against it. She tried to lift her arms, to block the light, but she couldn't move them. The gentle warmth slowly turned into a burning heat, becoming more than she could bear. She screamed, but no sound reached her ears; the silence was almost worse than the pain.

Aspen felt herself suddenly ripped from the light, as sound and feeling returned to normal. She opened her eyes and sat up, her heart beating painfully inside her chest and skin tingling. She was back in the sparring room, exactly as she'd last seen it. Except Oliver and Laurel were still alive. The man knelt beside her, a pair of slim metal devices in his hands, while his partner was to his right, hands on a box about the size of one of Oliver's guns. They were looking at her with… _**concern**_.

Oliver breathed a sigh of _**relief**_ as he hooked the pair of devices onto Laurel's box. "Aspen, we need to get you back to the hospital," he said slowly. "I think there's something seriously wrong with you."

The girl didn't argue, just glanced down at her hands. "It's the hair, isn't it?" she asked softly.

"No, it—" Oliver's face suddenly turned to confusion. "What?" He looked back at Laurel, but the woman was confused as well. Shaking his head, the hunter turned back to the girl. "No, it has nothing to do with your… hair." He set one hand on her shoulder. "Do you know what just happened?"

Truth be told, Aspen wasn't entirely sure. She _thought_ she'd shot them and killed them, but, like the last time, it seemed reality had been different. "I… blacked out?"

Oliver's head shook slightly. "You didn't just black out; your heart _stopped_. You were clinically dead for over a minute."

Aspen blinked. _Dead?_ That couldn't be right. If she'd died… that meant someone had killed her, didn't it? And there was no one there besides the three of them, so if it hadn't been Oliver or Laurel, that only left her. Looking down, she curled one of her hands into a fist. That didn't sound right, yet somehow she knew that was what had happened. She'd pushed herself too far, and her body had failed as a result. _I need to be stronger_. If she was going to be a hunter— _ **huntress**_ , her brain told her—she couldn't let this slow her down. Rising to her feet, she stared the two hunters down. "I'm fine," she said flatly.

Oliver and Laurel stood up with her, leaving the odd metal box and panels sitting in the dirt. The man stared back at her. "No, you're not."

Aspen bared her teeth and growled at him. "I am going to be a huntress with or without your help. You promised to take me to the Vital Festival, so _take me._ "

Neither adult was intimidated by her display. Oliver looked as if he might say something, but Laurel crossed her arms. "And if we don't?" she asked challengingly.

The girl faltered for a moment. If they didn't take her, then... "I'll walk." She didn't have any idea where it was even supposed to be, but if that was what it took, she'd do it.

Laurel shook her head. "You can't walk to the Vital Tournament."

Oliver nodded in agreement. "It's way too far and you'd never make it on time. Besides, based on what just happened, the grim would kill you long before you even got to Vale."

The orange-haired woman frowned oddly and tilted her head. "I was just going to say that it was because it's in a floating arena, but those are good points too."

Oliver shook with a small laugh, but he quickly looked back at Aspen with a serious look on his face. "Alright, Aspen. Here's the way things are..." He narrowed his eyes and bit his lip before speaking again. "You're eighteen—we think—and that means you're old enough to make your own decisions. I _did_ promise to take you to the Vital Festival, and I will," he paused and set his hand back on her shoulder, "but, as soon as it's over, you _need_ to go to a hospital and get medical attention. Understand?"

Aspen took a breath, looking at the hand on her shoulder. She wasn't entirely sure what to make of Oliver's grip, but it didn't feel hostile, at the very least. It seemed like agreeing to his terms was the only way she was going to get to the Vital Festival. Grudgingly, she nodded.

Oliver smiled and pulled his hand away. He began to turn, but quickly stopped and looked back at her again. "No fighting until then, either, oh-kay?" Not liking the fact that he was adding further conditions to the deal—or that he was using words she didn't understand—Aspen scowled, but didn't argue. At least she was going.

(-)

 _Laurel sat in the chair, staring at the wall as she waited for the knock she knew was coming. The words she'd seen on her scroll were still registering with her. It was just... impossible. She was on her feet by the end of the quick double-knock. Opening the door, she let Oliver in. The man looked ragged and hollow, barely holding himself together. He stood motionless in the small entryway as Laurel closed the door gently behind him. Looking into his eyes, she saw dampness beginning to form in their corners._

 _It was true._

 _Laurel wrapped her arms around Oliver as he began to shake, struggling to keep herself from slipping into the same state as her partner; he needed her to support_ _ **him**_ _, after all._

 _"It's all my fault," the man croaked, his voice breaking with sobs. "Gray's dead and it's all my fault!"_

 _Laurel bit back her tears and ran her hand over his back. "You didn't do anything. It's_ _ **not**_ _your fault."_

 _She felt Oliver's arms slip up around her to return the embrace. "I turned her onto that job. I should have known. I-I sh-should've..." The man broke down into sobs, and all Laurel could do was hold him together as the tears began falling down her own face._

Laurel slowly opened her eyes, letting the dream of a memory fade from reality as a quiet beep found its way into her ears. Glancing to her left, she saw that, despite the darkness, Aspen was still staring out the Dustplane's window to the ground below. The woman adjusted herself in her seat before reaching forward to pull her scroll from the pouch in front of her. Opening it, she blinked and squinted against the sudden light as she opened the message from Oliver.

 _How are things up there?_

The woman sighed internally before tapping out her reply. _Quiet. Somehow, Aspen hasn't gotten bored of looking out the window the entire time._ Closing her scroll again, she closed her eyes and leaned back. Oliver really should have been the one sitting next to her; he had bought the tickets, after all. Unfortunately, since Aspen wasn't actually related to either of them, she couldn't get a ticket in Hunter-class. Of course, Oliver, being the type of man he was, had purchased an economy ticket for the girl and then swapped places with her. Hunter-class wasn't that much better than economy, but at least you knew—or, at the very least, could feel safe assuming—that the people you'd be flying with would be respectful of the other passengers.

Another beep from the scroll. _Nothing wrong with that._ There was a short pause before the next message came in. _You know, I really wish you would give her more of a chance._

Laurel couldn't help but scowl a little. _I'm trying. There's just something about her that rubs me the wrong way._

Oliver's reply came in quickly, as far as scroll communications on an inter-kingdom flight went. _Everyone rubs you the wrong way._

 _You don't._ Laurel caught herself just before she hit send. Deleting the words, she instead wrote, _That's not fair. It's just who I am._

 _I know, sorry. I just don't understand what it is that bothers you about her._

The woman glanced at Aspen, who was still looking out the window. How could Oliver _not_ be bothered by her? _Ignoring the fact that she_ _ **died**_ _not two days ago and came back_ _ **without**_ _the defibrillator, she's clearly not mentally well. She also managed to beat_ _ **both**_ _of us—two trained Hunters—without a weapon. Is that someone you want around civilians?_

It was a good two minutes before she got Oliver's reply. _That's why she's up there with you and all the other Hunters, and there'll be even more once we get to Vale._

It was a solid argument. Almost _too_ solid. _You just came up with that excuse, didn't you?_

 _You can't say I'm wrong._

Laurel growled at her scroll loud enough to momentarily distract Aspen from the window. The girl quickly lost interest and went back to looking outside. _That's your problem: you don't think things through. That's what happened in the Crags, and that's what happened to Gray._ Her anger vanished and her heart stopped as she realized what she'd just sent. _I'm so sorry._ _I shouldn't have said that._ _I'd had a dream and—_

The scroll beeped before Laurel could finish her message. _No, you're right._ She could practically hear Oliver sigh. _I'm just doing the best I can to help a girl figure her life out. It's not exactly something I'm an expert on._

Laurel cleared her message field. _And I'm trying to help you._ _I'm sorry I brought her up. It wasn't your fault._

 _I know, Tawny. That's what you keep telling me._ _I'm going to try and catch some sleep before we land._ Laurel sent a short acknowledgement before closing her scroll and returning it to the seat back in front of her. There was no way she was going to be able to fall back asleep now.

(-)

First, it was that city, Vacuo. Then, it was the ship. Now, it was this _colosseum_ , as Laurel and Oliver called it. Aspen didn't need to see the people to know they were there, and there were _so many_ of them. Not as many as the city, but more than the airship, and even more closely packed. Why did they feel the need to do this? _And why don't I?_

Aspen leaned against the railing, the weight of thousands of people pushing down on her back only counterbalanced by the weight of hundreds of thousands more pushing up on her from the city below. She wished that none of it was there, that she could simply enjoy the slight breeze that cooled her skin without all the pressing and buzzing of all the people around her, all the… She still didn't have the word for what she was. She knew there _was_ one, but it just wasn't coming to her.

Closing her eyes, Aspen focused on everyone behind her. She could feel the subtle shifts as they moved up and down and back and forth, but, with so many people, it was difficult to pick out any one in particular. That didn't stop her from trying, however. She reached out, trying to find Oliver's and Laurel's auras amongst the crowds. Laurel had been with her not long ago before going to join Oliver in their seats, so her feeling was still fresh on Aspen's mind. She couldn't do it.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, the girl opened her eyes and looked back out at the horizon. A scrap of paper drifted by on the breeze, and Aspen got a glimpse of it before it was pulled down by… by… _**gravity**_. It was one of the posters, which Oliver had said was meant to advertise the tournament. It didn't make much sense to Aspen, seeing as how they were already there. Still, she had learned from it that the word 'Vytal' was spelled differently than how she'd thought it was, which didn't make any sense either. There seemed to be a lot of that in her life.

As she was about to move away from the railing to find Oliver and Laurel, she felt an aura moving quickly toward her. It felt different than the others, and lower to the ground. Aspen turned toward it and saw a small creature running toward her, a snarl on its face as it let out sharp barking sounds. The girl struggled to think of the animal's name. _Is it a…_ _ **wolf**_ _?_ No, that wasn't quite right; it was far too small, and had only a small stub for a tail. It had the right colors though, dark gray and white.

The creature came to a stop several feet away from her, baring its teeth and spreading its legs as if it was trying to intimidate her. Aspen cocked her head as it continued to make its sharp barking noise. She took a half-step toward it, and the animal scurried backward, never losing its snarl and never taking its little black eyes off her.

"Ah! Zwei!" The high pitched cry was all the warning Aspen got before a girl suddenly appeared in a burst of flowers— _No, just the_ _ **petals**_ _… What?_ —and scooped the creature up into her arms. "I'm so sorry!" she spouted, trying to calm the still angry _**dog**_ — _that_ was the word. "He's normally really friendly and nice and cuddly and not at all mean and angry and I don't know what's wrong with him and I am so sorry!"

Aspen narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked at the girl. She didn't have much to reference from, but she would guess that she was younger than her, though she couldn't say by how much. She wore mostly black with bits of red throughout, though the hooded cloak on her shoulders was entirely red. There was something of the same bloody color sitting in the small of her back which, based on how Laurel's looked when not active, Aspen guessed was a weapon.

It wasn't until a few moments later that Aspen realized the girl was still talking. "—hope he didn't bother you and you aren't mad at all because that would make a terrible first impression and oh gosh please say something…?"

Aspen blinked as the girl trailed off weakly, slumping downward as if the dog in her arms had slowly gotten heavier as she'd been talking. She didn't actually know what she was supposed to say, since her only experience meeting people had been at the hospital. _Names. That's where Oliver started._ "Aspen," she said, crossing her arms loosely in front of her body.

The girl was momentarily confused by the introduction, but quickly perked up. "I'm Ruby!" she announced cheerfully, rocking up on her feet before looking down at the animal she was holding onto. "And this is Zwei—" She was interrupted as the dog let out a snarling bark directed at Aspen. Curiously, this caused Ruby to change her tone of voice as she frowned at Zwei. "—who is being a _very_ bad boy!" To make the entire exchange even stranger, the dog actually reacted to the words, ears and head drooping as he let out a small whine. Ruby looked back up at Aspen. "So, I haven't seen you around Beacon… Are you here to fight in the tournament, or are you just watching?"

Aspen paused for just a moment. "Watching." She wanted to say 'fighting'—especially after meeting this Zwei creature—but, even if she hadn't told Oliver she wouldn't, she needed to watch the tournament before she could even understand how it worked.

Ruby gave an awkward shrug, keeping Zwei close to her body. "Ah, well, that's cool, I guess."

"Hey, Ruby! Come on!" Both girls turned to look for the source of the call. With all the people moving around, Aspen wasn't entirely sure who had shouted, but she worked it out when she saw the trio of girls looking in their direction. The biggest giveaway, though, was the blonde waving her arms about wildly.

"Oh! That's my team!" Ruby explained, looking back at Aspen even as she began moving away. "I've got to go. It was nice meeting you!"

Aspen didn't say anything as the girl ran toward the others, but silently she wondered if she could say the same. It certainly hadn't been… _**unpleasant**_ , but Ruby had done most of the talking. If anything, Aspen had gotten more out of the conversation by feeling the girl's aura. Up until that point, she hadn't noticed that the auras had _**texture**_ to them. Ruby's had felt like… She wasn't entirely sure. Bending over, she picked up one of the petals still sitting on the ground. She inspected it for a moment before curling her hand into a fist around it. Crushed flowers; _that_ was what it felt like. Releasing the mangled petal into the breeze, Aspen began moving toward the arena.


	5. Chapter 5

Amity Colosseum seemed designed to distract every sense at once. Thousands of auras, packed into a small space, pressed down on Aspen, while the people themselves formed indistinguishable tapestries around the arena, shifting and convulsing as they moved. The long rows of seats— _ **benches**_ —weren't particularly comfortable, but Aspen supposed they served their purpose. She found the food to be unappetizing, with the fluffy white 'popcorn' in particular tasting like ash in her mouth—though _ash_ was a good word...

Although they threatened to, none of the stimuli were enough to pull Aspen's attention from the combat in the center once it started. This 'tournament' was not what she was expecting at all. There were hunter-students her age, as Oliver had promised, but they were fighting each other, not Grim. Unless they _were_ Grim? No, that couldn't be right. Laurel said that hunters killed Grim—giant ones, even. These fighters were clearly the same as Aspen and all the other people around her and, despite the fierceness of their battle, were apparently not in it for the kill—there had been plenty of opportunities for that.

Aspen focused in on the skirmish between the girl in black—Blake—and the girl in the purple hoodie—Reese. The latter girl fought with a weapon that Aspen didn't recognize; some type of board that also served as a means of transportation. Even watching carefully, she couldn't rationalize it as a practical weapon. On the other hand, Aspen easily understood Blake's swords. There was a firing weapon built into the handle of one of the blades, but that seemed to only increase its versatility.

Aspen's red eyes followed Reese as she chased after Blake. The blue-haired girl paused for a moment when she saw her opponent standing with her back exposed in an obvious ploy. Aspen was disappointed, then, when Reese moved in to attack. As the board made contact with her, "Blake" disappeared and, in a matter of a few seconds, Reese ran into the cord attached to the black-haired girl's weapons and was subsequently kicked out of the combat area by her opponent. Aspen scowled. _How could this girl have possibly become a hunter-student? That was clearly a trap. What advantage would Blake have gotten from standing still and making herself vulnerable?_ On the large screen with each hunter-student's name, the bar next to Reese's picture had shrunk down to just a red stump.

As Aspen looked around for something else to occupy her attention, her ears pricked up at the words of one of the two men talking over the action: "…eliminated by ringout and Aura level!" Aura... Was that the same thing as what she felt coming off all the other people? There was no real way to tell, though it seemed as if the term referred to something regarding combat—maybe having to do with the bars on the screen? The way she used the word just felt so _right_ , though. It probably didn't matter.

Aspen's eyes settled on a girl in white—her name was... Weiss—waving her arms around. As she moved, strange symbols appeared both in the air and on the ground to various effect. Some propelled their victims while others, like the one she was using right now, trapped them in... _**ice**_. What looked like a massive fist burst up from the ground, grabbing two of the other team's fighters before turning into a ball and rolling away. It was a curious ability, and Aspen wondered if it was related to Oliver's light barriers or the after-image Blake had tricked Reese with.

Did everyone have abilities like this? Aspen had seen three examples of it now, all different and all used by hunters or hunter-students. Was this one of the requirements, then? Did you have to have a special ability to be a hunter? Did _she_ have a special ability? She had no idea.

The girl focused back on the ice ball just as it broke apart, shattered by the fourth member of the "Auburn Team." The girl—Arslan—seemed powerful. She'd destroyed the mass with a single punch, and had earlier created a shockwave in much the same way while fighting the yellow one, Yang. _Is it Yang? Or Yang Xi— Xia—_ The pronunciation eluded her. Either way, Aspen wanted to fight the girl—or she would have, had she been allowed to fight.

Just moments after the ice was shattered, the "Ruby Team" began putting some kind of combined attack into action. Weiss waved her arms and an ice wall appeared, which Yang began propelling herself along. Blake threw her weapon to the blonde, connecting them with the cord before propelling herself off the girl Aspen had met earlier, Ruby, toward the three Auburn Team members. The entire attack seemed both spontaneous and planned out, well-executed as a single unit.

Aspen felt her heart begin to beat faster even as the two airborne girls slowed down. The noise and press of the crowd faded to nothing and the image of the combat area sharpened, despite the distance between them. She could see the rose petals from the boost Ruby gave Blake. She could see that Blake and Yang were tethered by a _**ribbon**_ and not a cord as she had thought. She could see the strands of golden hair flowing behind Yang as Blake launched her forward. Aspen involuntarily drew in a sharp breath as the world came to a halt. Things were different now. She would have liked to fight Arslan. She had wanted to fight Oliver and Laurel.

She _needed_ to fight this Ruby Team.

(-)

Oliver absently tossed several pieces of popcorn into his mouth, keeping his eyes on the field below him. It had only been six years since his last Tournament, but it seemed as if the students had become exponentially more talented. Then again, it may have just been the way Team RWBY was utterly trouncing Team ABRN. One of the commentators had called this match one of the closest in the four-on-four round, but that wasn't what Oliver was seeing. Two of the students on ABRN seemed able to hold their own, but the other two... One of them had barely been able to get a shot off since the match had begun and the other had let herself get drawn to the edge of the arena and knocked out.

RWBY, on the other hand, fought with a level of teamwork Oliver honestly wouldn't have expected of a first year team. It was impossible to tell at this distance, of course, but it didn't seem like they were having any trouble communicating whatsoever, performing moves without even looking at each other. Trust like that didn't come easy, and it was something even he and Laurel hadn't had in their first year.

Oliver flicked another piece of popcorn into his mouth as the Schnee girl spun around, forming a wall of ice. Taking the cue, Yang began sliding herself along the wall by firing her shot-gauntlets before catching the weapon thrown by Blake. The black-haired girl used the tether to further propel the blonde along the wall and, as she was dragged along, used Ruby as a human springboard to launch herself toward the remaining members of Team ABRN. The stunt looked straight out of one of those action movies that tried to glamorize the life of a Hunter, and Oliver heard Aspen draw in a sharp breath as Blake propelled Yang even faster into their opponents, taking them all out at once. He had to admit, he was impressed too; that was the type of move he wished GLOE could have performed in their first year.

As the crowd cheered for the victorious team, Oliver looked over at Aspen to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were still fixed on the arena, but every muscle in her body was tensed up. "Aspen? You alright?" When the girl didn't respond, he turned his head the other way to make sure Laurel was aware of the situation. Doing so proved to be a mistake, however, as the girl exploded into motion the instant he looked away.

Oliver was barely quick enough to see the girl kick off the bench and leap over the people directly in front of them to drop down to the level below. "Shit!" Oliver and Laurel were both on their feet and over the edge within moments, throwing apologies back at the people they'd stepped over. Somehow, Aspen was already a quarter of the way down the next section of benches, though the people in her way were slowing her down. Gesturing for Laurel to go left, Oliver went right, hoping that by running down the sides of the seats they'd be able to get ahead of the girl and cut her off.

Oliver got to the stairs and began sprinting down. Soon enough, he'd passed Aspen and was at the bottom of the stairs. Rounding back in front of the benches, he placed himself in the girl's way. "Aspen, stop!" Either the girl didn't hear him or, more likely, ignored him, continuing to barrel through the crowd, who were just beginning to realize something was happening. Laurel wasn't close enough to help him stop Aspen, so Oliver prepared to do it himself.

Oliver was not prepared to do it himself. Three benches up from his position, Aspen leapt up again. The people in front of her managed to duck, giving the Hunter a clear view of the girl. Despite his years of experience facing fearsome creatures of darkness, Oliver lost his composure when he saw the girl's eyes. They were alarmingly dilated, her red irises mere slivers surrounding massive black pools of darkness. _What the hell is—_

The Hunter's thought was interrupted as Aspen's shin cracked against his skull, sending him tumbling backward down into the student section. Oliver snapped back to focus in time to see Aspen land ahead of him and kick off toward the battleground. He struggled to his feet, a wave of nausea hitting him as his Aura worked to heal the damage the girl's kick had done. _At least she won't get past the shield… Except the match is over, so..._ Oliver's vision cleared just in time to see Aspen jump over the wall into the arena, unhindered by the normal protective barrier.

"Shit!" Oliver ran over to the wall, intending to follow the girl down, but a hand grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back just as the shield flashed back up. Laurel steadied him as he caught his breath, and the pair could only watch as Aspen sprinted out toward Team RWBY. "We are so screwed."

(-)

"Team RWBY is victorious!"

"We… did it?" Weiss asked, surprised.

Ruby looked around uncertainly, holding Crescent Rose close. _**Did**_ _we do it?_ She looked over to her sister for affirmation, and Yang gave her a thumbs up. _We did it. We did it!_ "WE DID IIIIIIIT!" she squealed, leaping up into the air. _We actually won! I can't beli—_

"Hold on, what's this?" Professor Port's voice boomed over the speakers, interrupting Ruby's celebration. "It appears as though someone has jumped into the arena and is now running toward Team RWBY!"

"So they have!" Prof— _Doctor_ Oobleck, as he insisted on being called, chimed in. "She does not appear to be armed, nor does she appear to be a student. Perhaps an over-zealous fan?"

Ruby looked around in confusion, trying to see who the Professors were talking about. _Who would jump into the arena?_ Only one of her questions was answered as she saw a familiar figure running across the volcanic side. "Aspen?"

"Isn't that the girl you were talking to before the match?" Weiss asked, taking a step forward.

"Y-yeah," Ruby stammered as the black-haired girl skidded to a stop. "Aspen, what are you doing here? This isn't about Zwei, is it? ' Cause I thought you were cool with-eeeyah!" Ruby yelped as she saw the girl's eyes; they were _huge_! She took a step back. "Weiss, why are her eyes so big?" she asked nervously.

"I... I don't know."

 _What? How could Weiss not know? Weiss knew everything!_ Ruby looked to Yang and Blake for an answer, but they just looked back at her, just as confused. _Okay, Ruby. You got this. You've faced Grimm, and bad guys, and Weiss... You can do this! Now what exactly do I do?_

Even as Ruby tried to psych herself up, she saw Aspen's eyes shrink back down. They weren't quite as small as she remembered them from before, but they were at least a little less scary. "Uh, Aspen?"

"I'm here to fight you," the tall girl said matter-of-factly. Seriously, how was she so tall? She had to be as tall as Pyrrha, and Pyrrha wore heels!

"That isn't how the tournament works," Blake explained, stepping in for Ruby who was admittedly a little intimidated by the girl.

Aspen turned her head to look at the faunus. "I don't care." As she spoke, she rolled her wrist, making a horrible cracking noise that Ruby didn't think she ever wanted to hear again.

"Well, I say if she wants to fight, we fight," Yang said as she bounced in a semi-ready combat state. "Let's see what she can do."

"Yang, no!" Weiss shouted, drawing the blonde's attention. "We can't just flaunt the system because some girl wants to— Look out!"

The warning came too late, and the entirety of Team RWBY only got a glimpse of the strange girl as her fist made contact with Yang's face. The blow sent the blonde flying, despite Aspen not using any visible weapon. Ruby stood frozen in shock as she looked at the girl she thought could have been a friend. Was this her fault? Should she have done something different? Had Zwei picked up on something she hadn't seen?

"Ruby!" Weiss's voice snapped the girl back to reality just in time to avoid another punch from Aspen. Tapping into her Semblance, Ruby dashed to the side, letting the strike sweep harmlessly through a cloud of rose petals. As she recovered from her miss, Aspen reached up to her chest and grabbed the zipper on her hoodie. With a single, smooth motion, she pulled it down, revealing a shirt with a stylized Beowolf mask on it.

Ruby began to panic again on seeing the symbol. Was Aspen a member of the White Fang? Was she some kind of badass super-assassin sent to kill them in revenge for stopping their plans with the train? Was she—Ruby jumped as Weiss's hand rested on her shoulder. Despite the initial surprise it caused, the young leader found it reassuring.

Doctor Oobleck's voice echoed over the loudspeaker. "Not to worry, everyone. I'm certain security will have this situation under control in no time."

"Indeed," Professor Port agreed, before slyly adding, "but I suspect Team RWBY would have no trouble subduing a single opponent."

 _Right, yeah. We've got this!_ "Weiss! Where's Blake?"

"She went to make sure Yang was alright."

Ruby nodded. "Okay, then our first objective is to keep Aspen distracted until they get back!"

"We're here," Blake said calmly as she jogged up on Ruby's right, Yang stomping across the ice just behind her.

"Alright! First objective complete!" Ruby cheered, trying to maintain her confidence. "Next objective is to—"

"Next objective is for me to kick that girl's butt!" Yang interrupted, her eyes flashing crimson—the same color as Aspen's. With a shout, she fired Ember Celica to give herself a boost forward.

Ruby didn't bother telling her sister to stop, and instead turned to her black-haired teammate. "Blake!" The faunus nodded and followed after the blonde. Ruby shifted back to look at her own partner. "Weiss, we're providing covering fire!" Even as the leader planted Crescent Rose's scythe blade into the ice, several glyphs appeared in front of the rifle, waiting to amplify the girl's shots.

Ruby took her time lining up her shot, wanting to hit Aspen's leg just before Yang got to her. The instant she fired, however, the lone girl pulled her leg back. The maneuver left her unable to move, though, and unable to dodge Yang's punch. At least, that's what Ruby thought. As Yang threw a powerful downward punch at her, Aspen pivoted on her planted foot, bending back slightly to avoid the strike before bringing her raised knee toward the blonde's stomach. Yang saw it coming and used her overextended arm to bat the leg away, following the counter up with an Ember Celica-amplified punch. The shot went wild as Aspen, still on one foot, maneuvered her raised leg around Yang's arm to kick up at her head. The blonde was knocked several feet through the air, but managed to reorient herself by the tone she touched down again. Now free for another shot, Ruby aimed directly at Aspen this time, hoping to take advantage of her compromised center of balance. Once again, however, it missed as the black-haired girl seemed to know it was coming and dropped into a sideways roll.

Blake took the opportunity to join the fight, leaping into the air and whipping Gambol Shroud in an arc to cleave through the ground where Aspen should have been. The girl moved even faster than Blake, though, doing a backward handspring into a crouch to narrowly avoid the incoming blade. Not giving her any time to recover, the faunus lashed out with her sword, using her Semblance to help drive her foe back. To her credit, Aspen managed to avoid taking any direct hits, though Ruby saw her hoodie's left shoulder split open at the seam as Blake tagged out with Yang. In that moment, the young leader felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the icy surface she was kneeling on. If her hair had been blonde, Ruby thought Aspen would have looked exactly like Yang when someone messed with her hair.

As it was, the two girls seemed equally angry as they clashed, with Yang's rage only growing as Aspen roughly deflected and countered every strike, even while avoiding Blake's occasional attacks from behind. Catching the inside of a punch with her forearm, the strange girl reached up with both hands to grab the blonde by the back of her head to bring it crashing down into her knee. Letting go of her, she spun around and kicked Yang in the side to send her rolling away. Blake immediately moved in to fill the void, but Ruby could hear that her sister wasn't out of the fight yet. "Knock it off and LET ME HIT YOU!" The instant Blake left Aspen open to attack again, Yang dove in with a yell and a powerful swing...

...which Aspen caught. It wasn't like before where Ruby had seen the leader of ABRN match Yang's punch with one of her own. No, what Aspen had done was stop the blonde's fist dead in its tracks with the palm of her hand. Yang reached over with her other hand to try and pry the girl's grip loose, but Aspen's other hand shot up to grab her around the neck. Ruby could only watch in horror as her sister was picked cleanly up off her feet and slammed into the ground, the solid construction of the central platform shattering under the force of the impact. The world seemed to grow darker as Aspen dropped to her knees, straddled the blonde and... and... Ruby was paralyzed with fear as the girl's fist went _down_ and _down_ and _down._ Yang's Semblance flared out from the small crater, causing Aspen to flinch, but it was only a moment later that she began to punch again and _again_. Why wasn't she stopping?! Yang's Aura was in the red!

Ultimately, it took Blake's intervention to spare the blonde from any further attack. Leaping over the aggressor, the faunus caught Aspen's arm with Gambol Shroud's ribbon and used it to forcibly pull her away. Ruby managed to pull herself together enough to shoot at the rolling girl, but she was shaking so much that the shot completely missed its mark. As Aspen got to her feet, the scythe-wielder took a breath and fired again. This time, the shot breezed over her target's shoulder, blowing past her long black-hair. Aspen didn't even flinch. Instead, she further wrapped the ribbon around her hand and pulled back, dragging Blake toward her. The faunus took it in stride and closed the distance herself, giving her just enough freedom to use both of her blades without her opponent being able to use the ribbon against her. Aspen was once again forced back as Blake pressed her attack. The faunus actually managed to land several kicks on the mysterious girl, but she didn't seem to care at all.

Ducking beneath Gambol Shroud's sheathe, Aspen thrust one of her fists into Blake's wrist, breaking her hold on the weapon. She followed up by lashing out at the faunus with her free hand, but Blake used her Semblance to leap back and put herself out of reach. At least, that's what Ruby had expected to happen. Instead, Aspen punched _through_ the shadow clone and grabbed onto Blake's wrist, as if she had expected the move. In the blink of an eye, the lone fighter had wrapped the ribbon around its owner's neck. The faunus girl clawed at her ribbon for several seconds before Ruby realized what was happening.

Aspen was choking Blake! "Weiss!" The heiress sped forward, propelled by a line of glyphs, before leaping up. As she spun over the two black-haired girls, she swiped downward with Myrtenaster, slicing through the ribbon and freeing Blake. As the girl fell, Ruby rushed over to check on her. She wasn't moving. Fighting her panic, Ruby quickly unwound the remains of the ribbon from Blake's neck before putting her hand in front of her teammate's nose. She was still breathing, but she was unconscious. Even if she hadn't been, her Aura was in the red. It was all up to her and Weiss now.

Standing up, the young leader looked to where her partner was engaging their opponent. Aspen had taken Gambol Shroud from Blake and was charging Weiss, using the weapon to deflect the fireballs the heiress was launching at her. A large glyph appeared beneath Aspen's feet as Weiss knelt down, but the black-haired girl didn't stop moving. Leaping into the air, she threw Blake's sword into the ground and, still holding onto the ribbon, pulled herself back down. She hit the ground with her fist, cracking the stone where she hit. The impact also caused Weiss's glyph to fail and implode, sending out a shockwave that sent the white-haired girl flying. Even Ruby had to brace herself against the force.

As she looked back up, she saw Aspen picking up Myrtenaster in her off-hand. Finding the balance of the sword, the black-haired girl spun it and plunged it into the ground. Somehow, she'd managed to figure out how Gambol Shroud worked, shifting it into its pistol-slash-kama form before pulling her arm back and throwing the bladed weapon. Ruby found herself unable to warn Weiss, who only just saw the threat as she rose back to her feet. Weakly crossing her arms in front of herself, the heiress could do nothing to avoid the weapon and was knocked back down as it hit her dead on. Pulling Myrtenaster out of the ground, Aspen began walking toward Weiss, whose Aura was now in the red as well.

 _No, no, no! How did this happen? Why is Aspen doing this? She's not just trying to beat us, she's… she's trying to_ _ **kill**_ _us! And I'm too scared to stop her! I've fought Grimm and bad guys and saved the city, so why do I keep freezing? I'm supposed to be a Huntress and a leader. I'm supposed to protect people, including my team. Yang. Blake. Weiss. They're counting on me. I have to do this!_

"Hey!" Ruby shouted, getting Aspen's attention. She cycled Crescent Rose to make her point. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" _Wow, that sounds a lot better in the movies. I'm nowhere near as tall as she is!_ Still, the taunt had served its purpose, and the black-haired girl was now facing her. "Alright," Ruby whispered to herself. "Here we go. You can do this." With a yell, she charged forward, pulling her scythe along behind her. Aspen took off as well, leading with her stolen sword.

The two met with the worst sound Ruby had ever heard, far worse than the simple cracking of a wrist.

(-)

Laurel wouldn't admit it, but she was panicking inside. Aspen had sent things to shit in the blink of an eye, and there wasn't anything she or Oliver could do to avoid the blowback. Like it or not, they were responsible for the damn girl, and everything she was doing right now was going to reflect back on them.

There had been a moment in which Laurel thought that maybe, just maybe, they could get out of this with just a slap on the wrist as Aspen talked with Team RWBY, but then she sucker-punched the blonde. Things had only devolved from there as one of the Professors handling the announcements practically _encouraged_ the fight, and the five teens seemed all too happy to oblige. Remarkably—though not unsurprisingly—Aspen held her own against the combined efforts of the four fighters, barely taking any hits at all.

The tone of the fight dramatically shifted, however, when Aspen caught Yang's fist. The move reminded Laurel of her own fight with the girl, when she'd caught Timekeeper as it had weighed nothing. The tension escalated as Aspen's free hand shot up to grab Yang around the neck and _picked her up off the ground._ She gave the blonde a few moments to struggle before slamming her downward. The instant before she hit the ground, though, the shield around the arena went black.

Laurel felt her stomach freeze. The shield only went black if something _seriously_ bad had happened that those running the tournament felt the spectators shouldn't see. Likely, the teens inside didn't even realize their match no longer had anyone viewing it. "No, no, NO!" Oliver shouted, slamming his fists against the black surface. Even as the Professors apologized for the disturbance, the man looked to his partner. "We need to get in there." Laurel nodded in agreement.

The pair sprinted as best they could around the edges of the student ring of seating, dodging around anyone who got in their way as they turned down the student entrance. Brushing through the crowds of people in line for concessions, Laurel followed Oliver to the nearest student ready-room. The door marked "Students and Authorized Personnel Only" failed to deter them as they burst through it. Passing rows of lockers, the two rushed to the arena entrance.

The doors were already open, but were blocked off by several guards. As the Hunters approached, one of the men turned and stopped them. "Civilians aren't allowed in here."

Laurel already had her identification out. "We're Hunters."

The guard didn't falter. "That still doesn't give you authorization to be he—"

"Look," Oliver interrupted, pointing out to the arena, "that girl that jumped into the arena is with us."

The man gave them a skeptical look. "You're her guardians?"

"Uh, something like that." Oliver quickly dismissed the question. "Why did the shield get blacked out? Did something happen?"

"You mean besides your girl storming the field and attacking a team of first-years?" Neither Hunter acknowledged the rhetorical question, and the guard shrugged. "I couldn't say. When They started fighting, we were told to stand by and black out the arena if need be."

"Why would you stand—"

"Oh, God…" The words barely escaped Laurel's lips, but they caused the two men to look out toward the arena. Only a few points around the edges of the arena let them see into the center, but that was all it took. Laurel knew things were going to be bad when Aspen leapt into the arena, but this was far worse than she could have imagined.

(-)

Aspen had lost control of herself, and she knew it. She'd realized it when Ruby began talking to her, and though she'd managed to rein herself in a little, she couldn't stop herself from fighting, and when Blake had cut her hoodie, she was pushed back over the edge.

Names and faces had been replaced by auras, each one with a distinct feel. The first one had felt like _**embers**_ on a _**beach**_ ; her anger had burned Aspen, causing her to lash out even more. The one after that had felt similar to the material of her hoodie, but her annoyance had made the soft texture irritating. The next one felt like shattered glass put back together by a child. That girl's frustrations had dug into her skin, and Aspen had wanted nothing more than to take each piece of the girl's aura and grind it into dust.

"Hey! Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Then there was the crushed petals. The one she'd met before, the one whose fear had been driving into the very center of Aspen's being since the fight had begun. Hers was the only aura left that Aspen could feel, but the fear was weaker, no longer driving Aspen crazy.

The black-haired girl turned to face her opponent, the glass-girl's sword in her hand. It was lighter than she would have liked and seemed to be made for stabbing over slashing, but it would do. Petals lifted her _**scythe**_ , yelled, and started running toward her. Aspen did the same, keeping her weapon in front of her. As they ran toward each other, she felt something build inside her. This was it; she just had to beat one more person, and she'd have proven to everyone that she could be a huntress.

Aspen heard a strange sound as some force brought her to a dead halt. She hadn't heard it before… or had she? No, she definitely hadn't. It had been... the sound of metal on… on… She looked down to where she'd heard it, and everything made sense. A wide piece of metal protruded near-vertically from her abdomen, connected to a long shaft, and then up to a horrified-looking girl.

Ruby had impaled her.

Aspen's legs gave out beneath her, having lost all their feeling. She was vaguely aware of Ruby's screaming as blood stained her shirt. Her blood. She was dying. As she hit the ground, the scythe blade twisted painfully in her gut as its owner tried to keep it steady, and one thought passed through Aspen's mind: _I need to get this out of me._

Shakily, the girl reached up and wrapped her hands around the back of the blade. Ruby said something incomprehensible, but Aspen could tell she was resisting her efforts. Focusing on the weapon, she pushed up with as much strength as she could. Breathing was getting difficult, and blood was starting to fill her throat. This needed to come out now!

With a single upward push, Aspen wrenched the metal free, causing pain to flood her senses. Her stomach felt like it was getting heavier, and her breaths were even more labored. She opened her eyes in time to see Ruby pulled away by someone she didn't recognize, replaced by Oliver and Laurel. They were both saying something, but the girl couldn't hear the words.

The weight in Aspen's stomach suddenly tightened painfully, causing her back to arch as she let out a silent scream. Olover spoke more voiceless words as he looked down to her abdomen. The worry on both his and Laurel's faces was mixed with shock and confusion as they both stood up and away from the girl.

The pain continued for what felt like an eternity, worming through the entirety of Aspen's lower torso. Slowly, however, it began to fade. Breathing came easier, and the feeling returned to her legs in a stinging cascade. Sound began filling her ears once again, but she still couldn't make out any of the voices around her. Rolling over onto her hands and knees, Aspen began to vomit, spitting up blood and bile. She felt a hand rest on her back, moving in circles as she continued to retch.

When she finally stopped heaving, Aspen leaned back, sitting up on her knees. Oliver and Laurel were on either side of her, with several other unfamiliar men in matching outfits standing around. They all wore the same… _**perturbed**_ look on their faces, and the Ruby Team was nowhere to be seen. One of the men leaned forward and whispered into Oliver's ear. "I'm sorry, we need to take her into custody. You too."

The hunter nodded. "Aspen," he said, squeezing her shoulder, "I don't—I don't know exactly what's going on, but you need to go with these men. Do whatever they say, oh-kay?"

There was that word again: _oh-kay_. Aspen still didn't know what it meant, but the way Oliver was looking at her made her feel… _**guilty**_. She couldn't place why, but it was making her feel like she needed to agree with him. "I wi—" Her answer was interrupted as she broke into a coughing fit. Gobs of blood and mucus flew up into her mouth, and she was forced to spit them out before she could speak again. "I will."

Oliver nodded and stood up, his hand falling away as the man who'd spoken to him stepped forward. Reaching down, he hooked his hand under her armpit and gently lifted her up. Aspen complied with the action and shakily rose to her feet. As she found her balance, she looked down at her abdomen.

Fortunately, it didn't look as though Ruby's scythe had damaged her hoodie, though her shirt had a long slash through it, and both garments were soaked through with blood. With her free hand, Aspen lifted the bottom of her shirt up to get a clear look at her stomach. There was a thick, fibrous line where the blade had pierced her, and, as she touched it, she could tell it went all the way through her body. The man who'd lifted her up tugged on her arm, and she let her shirt drop back down as he led her out of the arena.

"Wait." The two stopped as Laurel stepped forward. With a brief moment of reluctance, she lifted her poncho off and dropped it over Aspen's shoulder's, covering the bloody mess of her clothes. "There." The guard nodded and continued to lead Aspen away. The girl looked down at the yellow-lined poncho as she walked.

She hated yellow.

* * *

 **I was actually planning on holding this chapter off until next week, but, obviously, that's not what I did. I'm wanting to break away from the whole "publish-this-the-week-after-my-other-story" schedule to see if that will let me post more often, but I actually finished Chapter 6 earlier than I expected, so I'm going ahead and posting this one.**

 **I'm really happy with the way this chapter turned out, especially considering that 1) it has the most perspectives (four) of anything I've ever written, and 2) I've never written from the perspective of anyone who wasn't one of my own characters. Because I was essentially writing a single scene from four different points of view, there was bound to be some overlap. I tried to minimize that as much as possible so you wouldn't be reading the same thing two or three times, or, at the very least, make it different enough that it doesn't feel like the same thing again. Aside from the overlap, I was a little worried about writing for Ruby at first, but I think I managed to capture her voice (without going out-of-character) and make it distinct from the others.**

 **Once again, writing for Aspen is my favorite part of writing this story, especially in the last "scene." Building on her ability to feel the texture of people's aura, I wanted to give the rest of RWBY textures that made sense but wasn't the obvious choice (e.g. I could have made Weiss's feel like ice, but sloppily reassembled glass is much more interesting and telling of her personality). Then you have Aspen getting in over her head and being stabbed straight through with Crescent Rose. Besides being a darkly fun moment to write, it also marks the first time I've intentionally and irreparably broken from canon. Needless to say, there will be consequences.**

 **That does it for me this week. As always, I would love to get feedback on this chapter and, if you like the story so far, I would encourage you to follow the story. I'll do my best not to disappoint. Adieu!**


	6. Chapter 6

Ruby Rose sat alone in the room, clutching her legs to her chest. She stared through the table in front of her as she rocked herself back and forth in her chair. The echoes of Crescent Rose piercing through Aspen's stomach rang in her mind, and she pinched her eyes shut against the memory. Biting back tears, she buried her face into her knees. She'd… she'd killed her. She'd killed Aspen in front of thousands of people, including the girl's parents. They were her parents, right? They had to be. Why else would they have been there? She was going to get kicked out of Beacon for this, she knew it. She'd messed up, failed her team.

"Miss Rose." Ruby looked up toward the door, and though her vision was too blurry to see who it was, she recognized Professor Ozpin's voice. With a sniffle, she rubbed the tears away from her eyes. The Headmaster stepped up to the table, setting a large plate of chocolate-chip cookies in front of her. Normally, Ruby would have attacked the treats but, after what she'd seen—what she'd _done_ —she didn't have the appetite. Recognizing the young leader's abnormal behavior, Ozpin moved to her side of the table and sat down on the edge. "Ruby," the man said gently, resting his hand on the girl's shoulder, prompting her to drop her gaze again, "I know this isn't easy for you, but I need you to tell me your side of what happened."

Ruby again buried her face in her legs against the memory of Aspen laying on the ground, desperately trying to remove Crescent Rose from her stomach. The girl had watched enough TV and movies to know that it was better not to remove a bullet or a knife unless you had something on hand to stop the bleeding, but that hadn't made pushing back on her scythe any easier to bear. "I screwed up," she whispered, pulling her head away from her knees just enough to speak clearly. "I got scared and I froze. I couldn't stop her from hitting Yang, or from choking Blake, or from throwing Gambol Shroud at Weiss."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Ozpin reassured her, leading the girl to look at him in confusion. "What's important is that you overcame your fear and faced her alone, even though she defeated everyone else on your team. Now, why did you do that?"

Ruby bit her lip. "Because there was no one else. Because I had to protect them."

"And that is exactly what being a Huntress is all about: protecting those who cannot protect themselves despite your own fears."

The girl hung her head guiltily. "Except I… I… I killed her."

"Far from it."

"W-what?" Ruby looked up in shock. "Aspen's still alive?!"

Ozpin nodded. "And expected to make a full recovery."

"B-but how?"

The man stood. "She's a remarkably resilient girl, and the medical team got to her just in time." Ruby was confused. Crescent Rose had gone all the way through Aspen—the image of the tip pushing out against the hoodie was burned into her memory. How could she possibly recover from that, much less survive? "You should also know that both the feeds and the shield around the arena were blacked out before the… incident: What happened in the arena will remain there."

Ruby blinked at the professor as he walked back around the table. "You mean I'm not going to be expelled?"

Ozpin stopped and shook his head. "No. We are continuing to look into what happened but, as I said, you did nothing wrong and are not at fault." He began to leave, but once again paused. "In the meantime, I would recommend you focus on the rest of the tournament." There was a slight gleam in the man's eye that made Ruby feel a bit better. "Perhaps you could start by getting your energy back." The girl looked at the plate of cookies as the man left, still not feeling like eating.

Well, one or two couldn't hurt.

(-)

Oliver rolled his fingers on the table, the staccato of nails on metal offering the only reprieve from the silence in the room. He glanced over at Laurel on his left who was staring silently at the door. Sighing quietly to himself, the gunslinger leaned back in his chair. "What do you think they're going to do to us?" he asked idly.

Laurel gave a small shrug. "If we're lucky? I imagine they'll just take away our licenses."

The Huntsman frowned. "Yeah, I kinda figured that too." He shifted himself in his seat. "On the plus side, I'll be free to pursue my dream of knitting at a professional level."

His partner gave him a look that wasn't quite a glare, but still got the message across that this wasn't the time to joke. "There's something wrong with that girl."

Oliver sighed and leaned his head back. "So you keep telling me."

"You saw the same thing I did. Her wound? The way it—" Laurel paused to shove her hands together, interlacing her fingers.

"Stitched?" the man suggested.

"Yeah. That kind of thing isn't normal. She should have _died_ from—"

The pair's conversation was interrupted as the door opened and a tall man entered, carrying a coffee mug in one hand and a pair of thick folders in the other. Oliver swallowed as he recognized the man, and he saw Laurel stiffen in his periphery as she did the same. They must be in _serious_ trouble if the Headmaster of Beacon was the one interrogating them.

Ozpin took a sip from his mug before tossing the two folders onto the table. Hesitantly, Oliver leaned forward to look at them; they were files. _Their_ files. "Oliver Cyprus and Laurel Tawn," the older man said, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. "Eight years ago, you were partnered together at Shade Academy, alongside Gray Tetrio and Ej Alebrijes. The four of you were eliminated from the Vytal Tournament in your first year, but won in your third. After graduating, the two of you continued to work together, taking only a single personal trip outside of Vacuo in that time." The Professor took another sip from his mug before giving the pair a hard look over his glasses. "Perhaps you could explain to me what it was that brought you to the Vytal Tournament this year?"

Oliver didn't like how specific Ozpin's information on them was, but it made sense that he would have access to their full records. He glanced toward his partner, catching her just as she looked at him. _If I take the heat for this, maybe they'll let her go._ "It's my fault, sir. I was the one who agreed to bring the girl here despite Laurel's warnings. I shouldn't have roped her into this."

"Uh, you didn't rope me into anything," Laurel interrupted. "Coming here was _my_ choice."

"Except you only came to keep an eye on—"

"Ahem." The two Hunters immediately came back to attention as the Headmaster cleared his throat. Ozpin took a long sip from his coffee before speaking. "You were rather quick to take the blame for this incident, Mister Cyprus, which tells me you two already know why you're here." The man set his mug on the table before leaning in and folding his hands together. "In that case, I will get straight to the point: Help me understand why I had to explain to a fifteen-year-old girl that she didn't actually kill the girl who attacked her team."

 _Oh, man._ Oliver hadn't even thought about how traumatized the Rose girl had to be after going through that. When he got out of this— _if_ he got out of this, he was going to have to... Well, he was going to have to do _something._

Unfortunately, Laurel didn't possess quite the same level of tact regarding the situation that her partner did. "Are you kidding? She's only _fifteen_?!" The black look the woman received from the headmaster for her outburst gave her pause, but she continued regardless, if a little more cautiously. "With all due respect, she's training to be a Huntress. We kill Grimm, and it's not a pretty truth but sometimes we have to kill people too."

Ozpin's humorless look never faltered. "Be that as it may, I would hope you agree that those of us who have endured such an experience should do whatever it takes to prevent it from happening to those who have not." Laurel didn't even try to argue, hanging her head in what Oliver knew she would never admit was shame.

"We found the girl wandering in the desert on our way back from a mission last week," the gunslinger started after taking a deep breath. "She was dehydrated and somehow hadn't been killed by the Grimm in the area, so we took her to the hospital and tried to figure out where she could have come from." He shrugged. "Didn't find anything. When she came to, she couldn't remember anything about herself, so we, uh, came up with a name for her."

"Aspen?"

Oliver couldn't hide his surprise. _How does he know her name?_ "Right. Aspen Gray. We didn't want to leave her on her own—"

" _You_ didn't want to leave her on her own," Laurel interrupted.

"Fine. _I_ didn't want to leave her on her own, so we gave her a place to stay—"

" _I_ gave her a place to stay."

Oliver rolled his eyes. Hadn't she just been willing to take the blame with him? "Anyway, out of nowhere she says she wants to be a Huntress and that she wants to fight me. I honestly didn't think she'd win, so I agreed to bring her here to the Vytal Festival if she won, though I was going to do it regardless. I figured I could at least get her started on the path."

"And she beat you?" Ozpin asked, filling in the blanks.

"She beat _both_ of us with our own weapons. Hell, we barely even touched her." Oliver took a deep breath before continuing. "She's fast and she's… she's strong. Stronger than most fully-trained Hunters."

"Indeed," the older Hunter noted, taking a sip of his coffee. "I believe Miss Xiao Long and Miss Schnee can attest to that fact." He set the mug back down. "And all this happened within a few days of her being admitted to the hospital?"

"The day after she got out, actually." Oliver hadn't seen most of the fight with RWBY, so he wasn't sure what the Headmaster was referring to, but decided it was best to move past it. "I should have known it was too early for her to be doing something like that. After our fight, she… died; her heart stopped. We were about to try resuscitating her when she came to on her own."

"You brought her anyway?"

"We couldn't force her to go to the hospital, so we made her agree to go after the tournament," Laurel said, apparently having finally decided that Oliver was taking enough fire from Ozpin without contributing her own. "Of course, we also made her agree not to fight anyone, and that clearly didn't turn out too well."

The Headmaster nodded as he processed the information. "How was she acting before she jumped into the arena?"

Oliver took over the explanation again. "She seemed normal enough watching the fight, though she got really tense at the end. I didn't see it until after she started running, but her eyes were massively dilated. Like, barely-see-her-iris dilated." He shook his head. "I can only guess that some kind of fighting instinct kicked in while she was watching, but I didn't see that when we fought."

Ozpin took one final sip from his coffee. "Is there anything else you feel would be relevant?"

The pair of Hunters looked at each other. "You know about what happened after she got stabbed?" Laurel asked.

"I do."

"Then no, there's not."

Ozpin looked them over for a moment. "In that case, I would ask that you stay here until someone comes for you." Standing, he retrieved the files from the table and turned to leave.

"Right," Oliver said with a confident nod. "Not a problem." Once the door had closed behind the Headmaster, however, the man slumped forward onto the table. To his left, Laurel sagged back into her own chair, the breath escaping from her lungs. Oliver looked at his partner, head resting on the cool metal. "We are screwed."

(-)

Aspen carefully inspected the metal _**cuffs**_ that bound her wrists to the table. They were more than a little uncomfortable and tight, but she made no effort to remove them. Oliver had told her to do whatever the guards said, and she didn't want to let him down again. Still, she wasn't sure what purpose the cuffs were supposed to serve. Maybe they wanted to make sure she didn't go anywhere? Why have two guards with guns standing in the room, then? Whatever the reason, she would be glad when they decided to remove the restraints.

Shifting in her seat, the girl frowned at the stiffness in her abdomen and looked down instinctively. Though she couldn't see it under Laurel's poncho, she could feel the black _**scar tissue**_ weaving through her body, even along her spine. It didn't feel quite as large as it had earlier but, without actually looking at it, she couldn't be sure.

Aspen looked up at the door as she felt a new aura approach. She wasn't sure how she knew what to call the things each aura felt like, but this one in particular felt like _**powdered chalk**_. There were several different emotions flowing off the figure, though no single one in particular stood out. As it grew closer, Aspen picked up on something else. There was a smell, one she found vaguely familiar, something she had smelled since she'd been in the desert. She found it difficult to describe. It seemed both bitter and… _**inviting**_ was the only word she could come up with.

The door opened, and the two guards standing in the room stiffened as the chalky man walked in. He was tall—a bit taller than Oliver perhaps—with loosely-kept gray hair and an oddly-shaped wire and glass accessory sitting on his nose. Aspen didn't care much for it, but, as the man gestured for the two others to leave, her attention was drawn to the cup the man held. It was made of some kind of hard-looking material— _ **ceramic**_ —and had a strange symbol on one side. She didn't care for that either. What had her attention was whatever was in the cup. _That_ was what she was smelling, though she still didn't know why it was familiar.

Aspen's eyes remained fixed on the cup as the chalky man sat down across from her. The vessel swung around in front of him before rising to meet his lips. Aspen continued to watch as the man drank and lowered the cup, setting it down on the table, though keeping his fingers wrapped around the handle. The liquid inside was black, though it seemed to turn to brown near the edges.

"Miss Gray, my name—"

The girl looked up at the man, her brow furrowing slightly. "My name is Aspen."

The man smiled, but something about it seemed off. "Yes, I am aware." Aspen was confused. If the man knew her name, why had he gotten it wrong? "As I was saying, my name is Ozpin. I am the Head Master of Beacon Academy." Aspen stared blankly at the man; she knew what the words meant, but the arrangement didn't have any meaning for her, particularly in the context of the man's introduction. "Tell me, do you know why you are here?"

Aspen did her best to ignore the overwhelming scent of the liquid in his cup. "This is where the guards brought me." It seemed obvious. Did he really not know that?

Ozpin's lips thinned as he briefly closed his eyes. "And do you know why they brought you here?"

"No."

With a sigh, the chalky man let his smile drop before taking another sip of his liquid. Setting it down, he released the handle and left it near the middle of the table. "Miss Gray, what you did was—"

"Aspen."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Aspen."

"Yes, I know."

"Then why do you keep calling me 'Miss?' "

Ozpin paused for a moment and shook his head. Without answering her question, he continued. "What you did was unacceptable. Under different circumstances, you would be arrested for assault and possibly attempted murder. Given how events played out, however, I wanted to speak to you before a decision was made." Reaching forward, the man took another sip from his cup before setting it back down in the same place. "I'd like you to tell me what happened in the arena, from your perspective."

Aspen involuntarily looked down at the cup as she recalled her memories of her fight with the Ruby Team before quickly looking back up at the man. She still couldn't remember the smell. "I told them I wanted to fight. We fought. I was winning, and then I was…" She glanced down at her stomach again. "…impaled by the crushed petals."

"Crushed… Do you mean Miss Rose?"

The girl thought for a moment. "No, _Ruby_ Rose. Like the name of her team."

"Of course." Ozpin made to pick up the cup, but stopped himself. "Actually, Mi— _Aspen_ , I was hoping for a more detailed account of your fight. What were you thinking? What were you feeling?"

"I saw the Ruby Team beat the other hunter-students, and I felt like I needed to fight them." Aspen struggled with how exactly to phrase what she had been feeling. "I saw better, I heard better, but when we were fighting, I could only feel them."

"You 'could only feel them?' "

"Yes."

"Could you explain?"

The girl did her best to use the words that had come to her while fighting. "One of them, her aura felt like… little fires in a place with… sand and water. She was angry, and it burned. It only got hotter when I hit her, but it stopped once I hit her enough. The one that felt like my... hoodie was annoyed, and it… _**itched**_ inside me. I wanted to make her stop breathing so it would stop. The shattered glass girl's annoyance dug into my skin and I wanted to break her even more, but Ruby yelled at me before I could. She wasn't as afraid at the end, but the entire time it felt like she was stabbing me in the chest. Then she stabbed me in the stomach with her scythe."

Ozpin seemed hesitant to continue, and Aspen could feel two main emotions coming off the man. One was _**disgust**_ —no, that wasn't quite right. It was something less harsh. More... _**aversion**_ , like a handful of dust gently blown into her face. She wasn't sure why he was feeling it—after all, she had simply been explaining what she'd been thinking and feeling, like he'd asked.

The other emotion was harder for her to pick up, not nearly as demanding of her attention. It was soft and subtle, like a blanket placed around her shoulders when she wasn't paying attention. _ **Sympathy**_ _._ The emotion further confused Aspen as, from her understanding, sympathy and aversion were effectively opposites of each other. Why would the man be feeling both at the same time?

The man gently tapped his fingers on the table. "Would it be alright if I examined your wound?" he asked leaning forward slightly. Aspen nodded and stood up as straight as she could with her arms attached to the table. Reaching across the table, Ozpin took the hem of the poncho between his fingers and lifted it up and away from her body. The action inadvertently allowed the girl to look down through the hole in the poncho. She couldn't quite see the scar, but she could see that the shirt around it was perfectly clean, without a single drop of blood staining it. As she thought about it, it made sense in her head, though she wasn't sure why.

"Remarkable," Ozpin breathed in _**fascination**_. Despite his tone, however, Aspen felt the briefest moment of fear flicker through his aura as his aversion grew. "You say you can feel a person's aura?" he asked, letting the poncho drop as he leaned back. Aspen sat and nodded, clenching her fists as she struggled to keep her eyes on the man. It was driving her crazy that she couldn't remember where the smell was from. "What is that like?"

"I can feel them pressing against me. Some are… stronger than others, and they all feel different."

"Such as shattered glass and crushed roses?" the man ventured.

"Yes."

"What does—"

Aspen's will finally broke, and she reached out for the cup. Unfortunately, the chain connecting her wrists wasn't long enough for her to do more than brush her fingers against the warm ceramic. She strained against the metal, but it only dug further into her wrists. Ozpin watched her for a moment before sighing and pushing the cup into her hand. With the vessel in her grasp, Aspen brought the steaming liquid as close to her face as she could, resting it just below her nose. The smell was strong and invigorating, but still didn't fully trigger her memory. As a scowl began to appear on the girl's face, Ozpin asked, "Do you like coffee?"

Aspen froze. _'Coffee?'_ Looking down into the liquid, she rolled the word around in her head a few times. It seemed like an appropriate word for the drink, even if no real meaning came to her. Cautiously, she moved the rim to her lips and poured a small amount into her mouth. The coffee was completely bitter, containing none of the other scents she had smelled, but she couldn't say that it tasted bad. It was better than the 'popcorn,' at least. As she swallowed the liquid, Aspen finally remembered where she'd smelled it before. When she had woken up in the hospital, Laurel had had a cup of coffee, which she'd dumped out and filled with water for her to drink, but there had still been traces of the beverage in the cup.

Satisfied, Aspen lowered the cup and set it back on the table, as close to Ozpin as she could. The man looked at the vessel for a moment before leaning back in his chair. "As I was saying, what does _your_ aura feel like?"

Aspen frowned. That wasn't something she had thought about before. Closing her eyes, she focused inward, searching for the unique texture that would mark her aura. She expected it to push outward, countering the inward press of all the others, but she didn't feel anything. It almost made her feel… _empty_. She opened her eyes. "I don't feel anything."

"Perhaps you have simply become accustomed to it."

Cocking her head, the girl considered that possibility. "No. It's just not there."

Aspen could feel the aversion from the man continue to grow as he frowned and picked up his coffee. Taking a sip, he held the cup in front of him as he leaned back in his chair. "I spoke with Oliver and Laurel. They had some rather… _interesting_ things to say about you." The man paused and looked at Aspen. She couldn't tell if he was expecting something from her, so she just stared at him with a neutral look. "They said you want to be a Huntress." Another pause. "Is this true?"

"Yes."

"Why is that?"

"I heard them talking. I like the idea of it."

One of Ozpin's eyebrows arched upward, giving the man an odd appearance. "And what does your idea of being a Hunter involve?"

Aspen answered quickly. "Tracking Grim and killing them."

The man adjusted the wire frame on his nose with his free hand as he leaned forward. "What if I told you that killing wasn't a part of being a Huntress?"

"But Laurel said she thought she'd be killing Grim by now," the girl stated confusedly.

Ozpin nodded. "Consider this a _hypothetical_ situation." It took Aspen a good second to work out what the word meant. "If killing were not a part of the job, would you still want to do it?"

"I… I don't know." The man's aversion grew, as did his sympathy. Aspen looked down at her hands, more confused than anything. Had she said something wrong? What was wrong with wanting to kill Grim? If that was what Oliver and Laurel did, why shouldn't she be able to?

"Aspen." The girl looked up at the man. "Do you know what Grim are?" Aspen's mouth opened, but she had no words, so she closed it and shook her head. She wasn't sure why, but the motion felt natural for the situation. "Do you know what _you_ are?"

The girl once again shook her head. The man leaned back as she continued to stare at her hands. "I… I know there's a word for it, but I can't figure out what it is. Normally, the words just… come to me, but this one hasn't and I don't know why."

There was a long pause before the man spoke again, a low level of… _**hope**_ coming off his aura.. "I believe the word you may be looking for is 'human.' "

Aspen considered the word. _Human. Human._ It seemed to apply to Ozpin, and certainly to Laurel and Oliver. When she tried to apply it to herself, it didn't quite feel right. She frowned. _**Human.**_ Nothing. Black hair fell into her face as she shook her head again. "No, that's not right. That's not what I am."

A scraping sound filled her ears as Ozpin pushed his chair back to stand up. Any bit of sympathy or hope the girl had felt from the man was gone, replaced by _**revulsion**_ and… a bit of fear. Walking over to the mirror that covered the majority of the wall to her right, he looked at himself as he drank from his cup. As Aspen began to return her attention to the uncomfortable restraints on her wrists, the man spoke. "Miss Gray, I am going to give you two options." The girl opened her mouth to remind him of her name, but he motioned for her to be silent. "The first option will be to undergo an initiation, a _test_ to see if you are fit to be a Huntress." The man turned away from the mirror to face her. "If you succeed, you will be trained alongside a group of students at my academy. Should you fail, however… Well…" He took another sip of coffee. "I would hope, for your sake, that you do _not_ fail."

Despite being offered everything she'd been trying to achieve, Aspen couldn't help but feel annoyed. After everything she'd done, she had to do even more to become a hunter-student? Hadn't she proved herself enough? There _was_ another possibility, though. "What's the other option?"

"The same outcome as failure, but more immediate."

It took a moment for the threat to sink in. _He's not giving me a choice at all._ Aspen's eyes narrowed. _It's a challenge: Win or die. I can do that._ "I will do it."

Ozpin smiled, but the look in his eyes was predatory. "A wise choice." Without another word, the man left the room, leaving Aspen to sit alone in the room.

(-)

Laurel closed her eyes, her face scrunching up in annoyance. "Can you stop?" she asked. She was patient—especially when it came to her partner—but even she had her limits.

Immediately, Oliver stopped drumming his fingers on the table, leaving the room in blessed silence. The man sighed, and, as Laurel opened her eyes again, she saw him slump backward in his chair. "Sorry. It's just… It's been, what, two hours?"

The orange-haired woman shook her head in disapproval. "So? Would it hurt you do something else with your fingers besides that?"

There was a good two seconds of silence before her choice of words registered with either Hunter. Oliver smirked. "Sometimes I wonder if you do that on purpose."

Laurel covered her eyes with one hand. "Sometimes I wonder if you'll ever grow up," she countered. _And sometimes I wonder if you act so immaturely because I'm too serious._ Removing her hand, she gave her partner a serious look. "You'd better hope we don't lose our licenses, because there is no way you could get a job the way you are."

The man laughed. "Oh, I bet I get a job before you do." Oliver's mood proved to be infectious and, despite herself, Laurel felt the corner of her mouth rising in a small smile.

The atmosphere was broken as the door to the room opened and a rather irate-looking woman walked in. Laurel immediately recognized her as Glynda Goodwitch, even if just by reputation. Without a word of greeting or introduction, the veteran Huntress dropped two thin packets of paper onto the table, one in front of each Hunter. While Oliver cautiously slipped his copy of the document into his hands, Laurel picked hers up quickly, wanting to get the whole thing over with. Her eyes scanned over the text and, having expected to see references to her license and the infractions which had caused it to be revoked, she was surprised to see more instances of "Beacon Academy" than anything else. Flipping to the last page, she saw several lines for signatures. "What is this?"

"A contract," the woman said coldly, forcefully placing two pens on the table. "Headmaster Ozpin feels Miss Gray may have a place here at Beacon Academy." Judging by the way she spat the words, Laurel figured the woman disagreed with the decision and, personally, she couldn't really blame her. "A… _special_ initiation is being prepared as we speak. Should Miss Gray survive, she will be accepted and placed onto a team." That made sense; every other student had to face a proper test before being allowed to attend their chosen academy.

"What does this have to do with us signing these contracts?" Oliver interrupted, though Laurel didn't miss him reaching over to grab one of the pens.

Goodwitch glared at him over her glasses. Pushing a lock of hair out of her face, she sat down and continued. "Given your involvement with the events at Amity Colosseum, suspension of your licenses would not be out of the question." Laurel resisted the urge to shoot her partner an I-told-you-so look. "The two of you have had the most experience handling the girl, however, so it has been decided that your fates will be tied to hers." Laurel _really_ didn't like the sound of that. "The contract contains all the details you need, but should you sign it, you will be taken on as temporary staff through the duration of Miss Gray's initiation. In the event that she completes her tasks, you will be taken on as full-time instructors, and there will be no further risk to your professional statuses. Should she fail, you _will_ lose your licenses."

"And if we don't sign, I assume we lose them anyway?" Laurel asked.

"Yes."

"Fantastic," Oliver quipped. "I love being blackmailed."

The comment earned another harsh glare from Goodwitch. "This is hardly blackmail. Were it up to me, you would be stripped of your licenses without a choice in the matter."

With the man sufficiently cowed, the woman paused to focus on her scroll, tapping through several menus before setting the device down for the two Hunters to see. The screen showed a brief dossier on a Team BRIC, though one of the four member's faces had been grayed out with a large red 'x' over it. "The team we intend to place Miss Gray on has been struggling since they arrived, and their leader has already been expelled. Unfortunately for the rest, this means that they will not be able to continue beyond this semester."

Laurel filled in the rest. "Unless Aspen passes her initiation?"

Goodwitch shook her head. "Even if Miss Gray is placed on the team, they still face expulsion if their grades do not improve." Laurel quickly looked over the limited records the woman had provided on each student; they did _not_ look good. "Part of your duties will be to monitor this team and do what you can to correct their decidedly lackluster behavior."

Oliver hummed as he looked at his contract, though Laurel couldn't tell if he was actually reading it. "You said that we wouldn't lose our licenses even if they do fail, though, right?"

"That is correct, though I cannot say that Miss Gray will have similar protections."

"And you said we're going to be teaching too?"

"That will be one of your duties, yes."

"What are we going to be teaching?"

Goodwitch sighed, though it was barely noticeable. "That has yet to be decided."

"Alright." Finished with his questions, Oliver turned to the last page and quickly signed on the indicated lines. The action earned him a hard look from the veteran Huntress as he handed her the papers.

Laurel rolled her eyes. "Is it alright if I take some time to look this over?" she asked. She knew she was going to sign it, but it would be nice to know what she was getting into.

Goodwitch nodded, much more approving of her decision than she was of Oliver's. "Of course. Take your time." Standing, she turned and left the room.

"You know, she was a lot nicer to you than she was to me," Oliver commented as Laurel began reading through the contract.

"That's because I'm not an ass like you are."

Oliver shrugged. "Maybe." He rolled his fingers on the table twice. "I still got the job before you did."


	7. Chapter 7

Oliver watched Aspen from a distance, keeping an eye on her as she stood at the edge of the cliff overlooking the forest. He'd deliberately avoided thinking about it, but the simple fact that she was standing there was, frankly, incredible. By all rights, the girl should have been dead three-times over in just the last week, and yet she was about to begin her initiation with only a pair of faint black lines down her abdomen and back to show for it. Even her clothes reflected her unnatural constitution, cleaned and mended—presumably by the Beacon staff—to the point where the only evidence she'd been wearing them when she'd been stabbed was the line sewn up the middle of her shirt. There wasn't even any blood left on it.

Behind him, the Huntsman heard a familiar gait passing through the tall grass. Laurel walked up on his right, handing him a pair of scrolls as she stopped at his side. "How's she doing?" she asked quietly as he took the devices.

Slipping the smaller scroll into the pocket of his duster, Oliver shrugged as he opened up the larger, black device. "Alright, I guess. I mean, she's just been standing looking out at the forest, which is pretty normal for her." The man began cycling through some of the scroll's various functions, chief of which being camera control. There were numerous cameras placed intermittently around the forest, but chances were he wouldn't need most of them. "Have you seen what she has to do for this?"

Laurel nodded. "Makes me wonder if I prefer our initiation or not."

"What? Getting dropped in the middle of the desert without supplies and told to 'make it back' didn't do it for you?" Oliver asked with a low chuckle.

"At least _we_ knew where we were going. The only thing we're supposed to tell her is 'find the thing on the other side of the forest and come back?' " Laurel said, crossing her arms. "You can't tell me that seems fair to you, Oliver."

"Hey, it's not up to us to tell them how to do things here," the man pointed out, closing the scroll before almost sheepishly adding, "and come on, call me 'Mantis.' "

The woman looked at her partner in disbelief. "Seriously? You actually _want_ to do the whole codename thing?"

Oliver shrugged. "Isn't that what we normally do when we're on the job?"

"Yeah, but this isn't really 'the job' anymore; it's _the_ job, as in the one we are now being paid to do on a regular basis."

"A contract's a contract."

Tawny shook her head. "Fine, whatever. Let's just launch the girl and get this over with."

Aspen didn't seem to pay either of the two Hunters any mind as they approached, continuing to stare out into the forest. Realizing he hadn't prepared any type of formal speech—which was especially awkward now that he'd insisted on treating this like a typical job—Oliver stood next to the girl and looked out off the cliff. "See anything interesting?" he asked, earning a sigh from his partner.

"I wasn't looking."

 _Okay, then._ Not expecting the answer, the Huntsman decided the best course of action was to accept it and move on. He pulled the smaller scroll out of his pocket and handed it to the girl. "This is your scroll, now." Aspen gingerly took the device, carefully turning it over in her hands to inspect it as if she might break it. "Once you go into that forest, it'll be the only way you'll be able to get in contact with Tawny and I."

"Because you have no experience with the Grimm, you can use it to ask Mantis and I any questions you have about them, but that's it," Tawny explained as Aspen slowly opened her scroll. "You're on your own for this, so if you bite off more than you can chew, _you_ have to deal with it."

Oliver winced internally at his partner's harsh tone, but Aspen just looked up at her curiously. For whatever reason, she seemed to struggle with idioms, so it was probably Tawny's choice of words that had confused her. "Look, Aspen," he said, drawing her attention to him. "Somewhere on the other side of the forest is an artifact. All you have to do is get over there, find it, and bring it back." It really _didn't_ seem fair, even when he put it like that. "You don't have to fight anything if you don't need to, understand?" The girl nodded, though Oliver doubted she would take his advice. As Aspen closed her scroll and put it into her pocket, he opened his own back up and looked down at it. "Now, I just need to figure out how to use the launching pad…"

"Don't bother," Tawny said flatly.

"Why?"

"She's already gone."

Oliver looked up. Sure enough, Aspen was nowhere to be seen. "Did she…?"

Tawny nodded as she walked past him to reposition herself. "Yep," she confirmed, looking over the edge. "You know, I think this is fifteen times I've said it now. I'm willing to call it there."

Oliver frowned deeply as he looked at his scroll. "Not yet. I still think she'll prove you wrong."

(-)

Aspen found she didn't enjoy the sensation of falling as much as she thought she might have. It had less to do with the actual falling than with having to figure out how to stop. Oliver—or rather "Mantis," as he'd wanted to be called—had said she needed to go to the other side of the forest and, as far as she could tell, the easiest way was to go straight off the cliff, so she'd jumped. Now, she was beginning to wonder if there had been a different route she was supposed to have taken.

The cliff began to slope outward beneath the falling girl, giving her at least some form of purchase to work with. A - - - smell began filling her nose as her shoes began sliding against the stone. Her feet threatened to rip themselves out from underneath her, but Aspen forced herself to stay vertical as she dug into the cliff face with her left hand. The action allowed her to control her descent, but was brutally painful as her fingers were torn to shreds by the stone. She ignored it and continued to plan out her landing.

Once she determined she was close enough to the ground, the girl bent her legs and leapt out from the cliff with as much force as she could. As she'd—somehow—expected, she cancelled out some of her downward motion, though she was still moving fast. Twisting herself in midair, she ultimately landed in a roll. Something cracked somewhere behind her left shoulder, but she ignored it until she finally came to a stop.

Aspen rose to her feet and looked at her left arm, hanging limply at her side with blood dripping from her fingers. Reaching up with her right hand, she grabbed a hold of her upper arm and forced it upward and back. She growled against the pain until the bones finally snapped back into place. With feeling returning to her arm, she looked down at her fingers, being individually wrapped in black threads that wormed over her flesh. _That's what that looks like._ Curling the hand into a fist, she couldn't help but feel like she'd forgotten something, so she turned and looked back at the cliff.

 _ **Acrid.**_ _That_ was the word she'd been looking for.

(-)

Laurel looked over Mantis's shoulder, watching as Aspen made her landing. Even after seeing how the girl had survived after being impaled, it still made the Huntress feel uneasy watching her set… whatever it was that had broken while her fingers covered themselves with a black fiber, presumably to heal.

"You s—" Mantis started, jumping back at the unexpected closeness of his partner. Recovering, he pointed at the scroll. "See? She had a landing strategy."

"Yeah, that almost killed her. That _should_ have killed her." Laurel seriously doubted Aspen knew what a landing strategy was, much less had one planned out in advance. "Sixteen."

(-)

Running through the forest, Aspen couldn't help but feel confused by how empty it felt. She had noticed it up on the cliff, when Oli— _Mantis_ had thought she was looking for something. There had been the press at her back from the city and the colosseum, but in front of her there had been _nothing_ , not a single aura pushing back at her. She hadn't even felt any animals; the way she'd felt Ruby's dog. That's what she'd found herself expecting, at least, when she'd tried to find them.

Leaping over a particularly large bush in her path, Aspen came to a halt as she found herself in a small gap between the trees. On the opposite side, just a few feet away, were two black creatures staring at her. They looked nearly identical, with hunched bodies and long limbs. White, bony spikes jutted out from various parts of their bodies and covering their faces were familiar white and red masks. The girl looked down from the creatures to check the shirt under her hoodie, then she looked back up at the pair, still staring at her. " _Beowolf_." Much like "coffee" and "human," the word seemed to stick to the creatures, though it didn't necessarily _feel_ right on her tongue.

On being identified, the two Beowolves looked at each other with what Aspen interpreted as confusion. _Do animals get confused?_ Turning back to her, the closest of the pair hunched forward and let out a tooth-baring snarl. Aspen cocked her head in confusion. Why was this creature she couldn't feel snarling at her, and why _couldn't_ she feel them? Were _they_ Grim? _No, they're Beowolves. The label on my shirt said so. Unless Beowolves are just the—_

Aspen wasn't given a chance to further question the name of the creatures as the snarling one suddenly stood up and howled. The girl flinched at the sound, but when the second Beowolf leapt at her, she acted on instinct. Side-stepping out of the way, she swung a fist in a wide arc, striking the side of the creature's head as it passed her, sending it crashing into the bushes. She barely had time to unzip her hoodie before the other Beowolf pounced as well. Aspen crouched down, coiling herself before shooting up and catching the creature under the jaw with her fist. Bones cracked under the force of the punch, and it wasn't until the creature fell down with its head at an odd angle that the girl realized they hadn't been hers.

Aspen stared at the dead Beowolf in shock. It hadn't been a hallucination. She'd actually killed something, and it felt _good_. It was like nothing she'd ever experienced before, and she didn't even have a word for what it was she was feeling. It simply felt… _**euphoric**_. A smile spread across her face. She wanted more of it. As had happened in the arena, her senses began to sharpen, and she could hear multiple creatures coming toward her from every direction. Judging by their lack of aura, they had to be Beowolves. _Good._

Soon enough, a pair of the black-furred beasts leapt out from opposite sides of the gap. Dashing toward the closet one, Aspen caught it mid-air by the "shoulders" and slammed it into the ground. Twisting around, she threw the Beowulf into the other one back-first. The two fell to the ground, the spikes along their spines pinning them together. Another of the creatures ran toward the girl, jumping to swipe at her. Aspen moved to get within its reach, using her elbow to stop its arm from hitting her before thrusting her arm forward to catch it in the face and stop its momentum. Grabbing onto both of the Beowolf's front limbs, she twisted them outward with a loud snapping of bones. The creature fell onto its knees with a howl of pain before the girl jerked its arms forward, impaling it with the spikes on its own elbows.

Aspen snarled at the beast as it fell forward with a whimper. Hearing something behind her, though, she released the Beowolf's arms and grabbed onto the spikes near its shoulders and snapped the bony protrusions off. She spun around just in time to bury them into the chest of another Beowolf. The creature stumbled backward from the unexpected attack before falling to the ground. Turning toward the two thrashing beasts still caught up in each other's spikes, Aspen walked over and placed one foot on the chest of the top Beowolf. The creature tried to swipe up at her but, as she pushed down, it began howling in pain, as did the one beneath it. With one final push, the girl shoved the Beowolves' spines into each other, killing them both.

With nothing else to kill, Aspen's breathing began to return to normal. She hadn't gotten quite the same rush from killing these last two Beowolves as she had from the first one—which was a little disappointing—but it still gave her a good feeling. As silence returned to the forest, Aspen looked around at the corpses littering the ground. There was a sort of black _**smoke**_ coming from the bodies, and it took her a few seconds to realize that it was the bodies themselves _**evaporating**_. As she watched them disappear, it occurred to her that she wasn't sure if this was normal or not. It certainly _felt_ strange, but it wasn't off-putting. Was she… was she _supposed_ to have killed these creatures?

Reaching into her pocket, Aspen pulled out the "scroll" that Mantis had given her. It didn't look like a scroll to her—weren't they supposed to be made of rolled... _**paper**_?—and it had seemed so delicate that she was afraid to break it. Carefully reopening the device, she hesitantly tapped the picture of Mantis's face. She sucked in a sharp breath as the man's voice suddenly came out of the little piece of metal. -/ _Nice work, Aspen. That was a bit… overkill, but it got the job done._ /-

Aspen hesitated, not sure how she was supposed to proceed. _Do I just… talk to it?_ "Was I… supposed to kill those?" she asked, feeling strangely nervous.

-/ _Yes,_ /- Laur— _Tawny_ answered. Why did they have to use different names? It made no sense. -/ _Those were Grim. Rule of thumb: Anything that's black with a white mask is safe to kill._ /-

While Aspen wasn't sure what thumbs had to do with killing Grim, it seemed simple enough. She did have another question, though. "If those were Grim, what are Beowolves?"

-/ _ **Those**_ _are Beowolves._ /-

 _What?_

-/ _What she means,_ /- Mantis interjected, -/ _is that those things you just killed were Beowolves. They're one of many types of Grim. You find them a lot in Vale and Atlas._ /-

Aspen nodded. She didn't know—or care—where Atlas was, but now she had an idea of what Grim were. Closing her scroll, she slipped it back into her pocket and began heading back into the forest. A snarl behind her caused her to stop and turn back around. The first Beowolf to attack her apparently hadn't been killed when she struck it and was now almost on top of her.

Arms outstretched, Aspen caught the beast on either side of its neck, keeping its fangs just inches from her face. With a growl, she shifted her hands and grabbed onto the back of the Beowolf's mask. Digging her fingers into the beast's fur, she began pulling back. The Grim began thrashing at her, landing a few blows on her back and legs as it tried to stop the pain in its head, but Aspen ignored her wounds as she continued to pull, bracing herself with a foot against the beast's chest. Eventually, the mask came off with a tearing sound, strands of flesh coming with it. The Beowolf howled in _**agony**_ as the bony plate was literally ripped off. Lifting the mask above her head, Aspen brought it down through what was left of the Grim's skull to pin it to the ground. Standing back up, she waited until the beast began dissolving before walking away.

(-)

"Eighteen."

Oliver snapped his mouth shut and looked at his partner. "What happened to seventeen?"

Tawny crossed her arms. "That was somewhere during the rest of the fight. I just didn't say it."

"Doesn't count then," Oliver said, trying to hide his lack of confidence. He wasn't going to admit defeat yet. "Seventeen."

"Still not giving it up?" the woman asked. He didn't answer, opting to track Aspen on his scroll instead. "Whatever. It's your money."

(-)

Aspen continued her sprint through the forest, taking out any Grim that got in her way. Despite what Mantis had said, there was a larger variety of the creatures than she had been expecting. Every time she came across a new one, she'd ask the two Hunters what they were called. Packs of Beowolves, a pair of _**hog**_ -like Boarbatusks, a den of two-headed Taijitu _**snakes**_ , and a few _**bears**_ called Ursas... _Ursases? Ursae? Ursai?_ _ **Ursai.**_ She hadn't made it through the skirmishes completely unscathed—she found herself having trouble facing groups of Grim attacking all at once—but any wounds she had sustained had sealed up with the black fibers and weren't giving her much trouble.

Seeing an Ursa ahead of her, Aspen adjusted her path toward a nearby tree. The beast turned and looked at her in confusion—all the Grim seemed to do that—before roaring at her—they all did that too. Ignoring it, Aspen hit the tree at an angle and took two steps up it before leaping out toward the Ursa. She flipped herself over and grabbed either side of the bear's head. With a crack, she snapped the beast's neck, simultaneously turning herself around to hit the ground running. She barely heard the sound of the body hitting the ground.

(-)

" _Eighteen._ "

"You're just jealous you can't snap an Ursa's neck."

"You can't either."

"…I could try…"

(-)

Not long after killing the lone Ursa, Aspen skidded to a stop. Something felt… _off_. Of course, the complete lack of any auras in the forest didn't help, but it was more than that. Something in the way the ground seemed to be constantly shaking. _No,_ _ **that**_ _is what's off._ Closing her eyes, she focused on the tremors, trying to find where they were coming from. They were ahead of her and… to her left. She'd been heading in a straight line the entire time she'd been in the forest, so investigating the source of the shaking would take her out of her way… but she _really_ wanted to know what it was. Turning slightly, she took off through the trees.

The further the girl ran, the stronger the tremors got, but they seemed to move, pulling her further and further to her left. Eventually, she got close enough to hear whatever was making them and, after a few more minutes, saw them. Stopping at the edge of the tree line, she looked up in fascination at the massive beasts plodding through the forest. They resembled - - -, about three times taller than her with black leathery skin. They had large triangular ears—ah, _**mammoths**_ was the word she'd wanted—long snouts and white tusks that were even bigger than those on the Boarbatusks she'd killed, though not quite as curvy. There were six of them, travelling in a single line, though none of them seemed to notice the girl.

A buzzing in her thigh caught Aspen's attention and she looked down before remembering her scroll. How long had that been vibrating? Reaching into her pocket, she opened it up quickly now that she knew it wasn't going to break.

-/ _Aspen, whatever you do, do not engage those Grim,_ /-Mantis's voice buzzed urgently through the device as she stared up at the mammoths. -/ _Those Goliaths may be young, but not even Laurel and I could take them on._ /- Aspen furrowed her brow. Hadn't he been calling her "Tawny?"

The woman in question spoke up as well. -/ _If you try to fight them, you_ _ **will**_ _die, and you will_ _ **not**_ _be able to heal yourself._ /- Aspen couldn't feel Tawny's aura from so far away, but she sounded… _worried_. Typically, she only felt the orange-haired Huntress direct frustration and distrust towards her, so this was something new.

It sounded like a challenge to her. In fact, it sounded exactly like the one she'd received from the chalky man: _Win, or die._ Aspen smirked. She would win.

-/ _I can see you smiling, Aspen,_ /- Mantis said, his voice harsh but carrying a hint of fear. -/ _Don't—_ /- Closing the scroll on him, the girl slipped it into her pocket. She was going to kill these Goliaths, just to prove she could.

(-)

Oliver stared down at his scroll, jaw clenched as he watched Aspen begin climbing a tree. This girl… Maybe he just didn't want to be wrong or maybe he wanted something to go right for a change, but in spite of everything, he'd defended her, justified her actions, and even went so far as to put his neck on the line for her, and now she was just… It almost seemed like she had a death-wish.

Sighing, the man closed his eyes in defeat. "Eighteen, you said?"

"Nineteen."

 _Fair enough._ Reaching into his back pocket he took out his wallet and began looking through it. It hardly seemed worth the effort, though, so he just threw it at his partner. "Just… take the money, alright?"

Tawny caught the worn leather case, but didn't open it just yet. "I need to hear you say it," she said without a hint of levity.

Oliver sighed again, unable to bring himself to look at the shorter woman. "You were right," he finally admitted. "You were right: There is something wrong with Aspen."

Nodding, Tawny opened the wallet and pulled out nineteen lien. As she handed it back, she quietly said, "If it makes you feel better, I didn't want to be."

(-)

Aspen carefully crept through the tree branches, analyzing the Goliaths in the shadows. Their size would make it impossible to break their necks and difficult to reach any vital organs, but that didn't mean she couldn't kill them. In fact, they likely had the same weaknesses the other Grim she'd faced had—slow like Ursa and unarmored undersides like Boarbatusk—and like the others, they had spikes on their backs that she could use.

Waiting for the Goliath in the rear of the line to pass in front of her, Aspen leapt out from her perch onto its back. The instant she touched it, the mammoth reared back and made a trumpeting noise: _The surprise._ Aspen barely had a chance to grab onto the front-most spike running down the creature's spine to stop herself from falling before it dropped to the ground with a crash. Disoriented, the girl hit the hard leathery skin on the Goliath's back, narrowly avoiding being impaled by the smaller spikes next to the large one she was holding. _Not happening again._

Righting herself, Aspen kept herself steady as the mammoth tried to shake her off. The creature's struggling had attracted the attention of the rest of the herd, and the Grim directly in front of the one she was atop of turned to look at her. The beast looked at her with its bright red eyes and let out a low rumbling sound: _The snarl._ Baring her teeth in return, Aspen reached down and snapped one of the spikes off, which caused the mammoth to trumpet in pain.

Aspen swung around to the other side of the spike and placed one foot against it while pushing forward on the Goliath's head with the other. Once she found an opening, she raised up the spike she'd broken off and jammed it into the leathery skin at the base of its skull. The Grim that had rumbled at the girl turned its head to the side before tilting back and whipping it back around. Aspen ducked as the creature's snout— _ **trunk**_ —flew over her. Standing back up, she removed her foot from the Goliath's head and stomped down on the spike.

The Grim made no noise as the bony protrusion was buried into its spine and it crumpled forward, its large tusks digging deep furrows into the ground. Aspen leapt off the dying Goliath to scramble up the face of the one in front of it. As she got to the top, the mammoth struck her in the back with its trunk, knocking her forward onto its spikes. A cry of pain escaped Aspen's throat as two of the sharp points pierced her left side, with another going through her leg. She struggled to lift herself up, grabbing hold two more spikes as she rolled off.

Dangling on the Grim's side, Aspen focused her mind on her wounds. They were already beginning to bind themselves back together, and though they would be stiff until the black fibers went away, she could still fight. Tearing off one of the spikes, she dropped to the ground and rolled beneath the Goliath. The creature immediately began stomping the ground, trying to crush Aspen beneath its massive feet, but the girl had found a relatively safe distance from each of the legs.

Gripping her improvised weapon, she looked up at the Grim's underside. It was too far up for her to reach, but if she could bring it down to her… She looked for a pattern in the Goliath's stomping. _Back left, front left, back right, front right, back left…_ Reversing her grip on the spike, Aspen waited for the back left leg to come down again. As soon as it did, she darted forward and put as much force into a punch as she could. It felt like punching a tree, but it had the desired effect. The Grim ceased its frenzied actions and began to slump down, giving Aspen the opportunity to run to the other side and repeat her attack.

It took several more punches, but the Goliath's back legs eventually began to shake and gave out. The creature collapsed onto its haunches before slipping and falling onto its side, giving Aspen the opening she'd wanted. Before she could finish it off, though, a sharp trumpeting noise tore through the air. She flinched away from the sound, only to be struck from her blind side and sent flying.

Rolling to a stop, Aspen quickly righted herself and appraised the new threat. The next Goliath in the line was coming toward her—no, it was moving between her and the one she'd downed. She snarled. She wasn't going to let it get back up. To her left, the spike she'd used to kill the first Grim was laying in the grass, the corpse having dissolved since. Snatching it up, Aspen sprinted back toward the Goliaths.

The creature that had hit her charged, tusks down. The girl didn't bother changing her course, keeping her eyes on the Grim. As they approached each other, the Goliath turned its head to the side. Aspen reacted by dropping into a slide, and as the mammoth's head swept over her, she took one of the spikes and stabbed it into the beast's trunk. An irritated rumble shook her from above, but the girl rose back to her feet and kept running.

Crossing the distance toward the downed Goliath still struggling to stand again, Aspen threw her second spike. It bounced off the leathery skin without causing so much as a scratch, but she was moving fast enough to meet it in mid-air with a powerful punch that sent it deep into the creature's body with a satisfying _shluckt._

A rumble behind her caught Aspen's attention, and she had heard it enough in the last few minutes to know what it was. Jumping up onto the downed Grim, she spun around and leapt back out, landing on the face of a fourth Goliath as it crashed tusk-first into its now dying herd mate. Ripping itself free from the corpse, the mammoth began shaking its head violently in an attempt to loose the girl.

As she struggled to find and keep her grip, Aspen felt a familiar feeling pierce through her chest. It was… _fear_. This time, though, it wasn't coming from the Grim or some other person she couldn't see, but from _herself_. She didn't know why it was coming from her, but she didn't like it.

The Goliath continued to flail about, crashing through entire trees as it tried to remove her. Aspen's face tightened up in pain as her foot slipped out and struck a thick branch, but she just tightened her grip on the Grim and bore it. Once the Goliath slowed its thrashing, Aspen began crawling back up its face. Ignoring the pain shooting up her leg, she climbed until she was looking the Grim in the eye. With a snarl, she reached one arm back and plunged it deep into the soft tissue. The creature reared up on two legs as it was blinded, and Aspen, unable to remove her arm from its socket, felt the bone snap as she finally lost her grip.

Flung into space, the girl briefly heard a cracking sound from the Goliath before hitting the ground hard. She cried out in pain as she bounced and rolled, finally coming to a stop several yards from the damaged tree line. Oliver and Laurel had been right; she couldn't… she couldn't do this. She needed to _run._

Quickly setting her broken arm, Aspen scrambled to her feet and stumbled toward the forest. Behind her, she could hear the Goliaths chasing after her. They may have been slow for their size, but they were much larger than her and her injured legs were slowing her down. She got into the woods and, with her arm now healed, she was able to use the trees to keep herself steady. Wood shattered and splintered as the Grim continued their chase, but the further Aspen got, the harder it was for the mammoths to follow.

After a minute of pained running, Aspen could no longer hear the sounds of the Goliaths. Slowing her pace, she came to a stop against a tree and slumped down to examine her foot. It was cocked at an angle that didn't seem quite right, so she gripped both sides and twisted it to what felt natural. Back in place, the bones and tissue began to seal and repair themselves. The girl sat silently against the tree, finally out of danger and healing. She'd… lost. She hadn't been strong enough to kill them. She hadn't even killed the second one on her own. How was she supposed to have killed six?

A buzzing in her pocket drew Aspen's attention down to her leg. Pulling her scroll out, she stared at it as it continued to vibrate. For some reason, she didn't want to open it because that would mean talking to Oliver and Laurel. Mantis and Tawny. Whichever. She opened the scroll anyway.

-/ _Are you alright?_ /- Oliver immediately asked.

Aspen looked away, fixating on a nearby bush. There were dozens of small red _ **berries**_ on it, and the leaves had a jagged edge. "I lost," she said quietly.

The scroll was silent for several seconds before Laurel's voice buzzed out. -/ _Aspen, what you did? What you just went through? No one else could have even survived that. You did a good job._ /- The Huntress's voice was uncharacteristically warm, and Aspen found it… _**comforting**_ , like a blanket wrapped—no, wait, she'd used that analogy before. Still, it was true. She looked at the scroll instinctively, though there was no real reason to.

-/ _Now, can you walk?_ /- Laurel's voice was back to its usual, cool tone.

Aspen looked down at her ankle and rolled it around. It was stiff, but it didn't hurt. "Yes."

-/ _Good, because you need to finish your initiation._ /- The girl closed the scroll and stood back up. She was still on the same side of the Goliaths that she had approached from, so—

The scroll buzzed again, though this time it was only a single, short vibration instead of a recurring pulse. Curious, she opened the device back up to see a block of text. } _That was an impressive performance. Meet me in front of Beacon's statue once you've settled in; I have a proposition that you may find interesting._ {

Aspen barely had time to read the message and figure out what all of the words meant before it winked away. _Strange._ Reclosing the scroll, she slipped it into her pocket, finished orienting herself, and jogged awkwardly into the forest.

(-)

"Good, because you need to finish your initiation." Laurel watched as Aspen cut the connection and stood before passing the scroll back to Mantis. The man looked at her with a raised eyebrow, telling her exactly what he was thinking. "She was moping and needed a kick to get her going again," she explained, gesturing limply with her arms. "Girl takes surviving a herd of Goliaths like she just blew the Vytal Tournament." She looked up at her partner quickly, stumbling over herself to apologize. "Not that I'm saying you moped or anything, or that it was your fault we lost…"

Mantis ignored her and looked back at the black scroll where Aspen was only now moving away from her resting spot. "Why were there even any Goliaths out here in the first place?" he wondered aloud. "Don't they usually stay away from people?"

Laurel frowned. She hadn't actually thought about it. "Well, they were young, right? Maybe the Vytal Tournament got their attention? You get a lot of people together in a close space with a bunch of teens fighting each other, things can get tense."

"Maybe," the man said absently, keeping his eyes on the scroll as he scratched the stubble on his jaw. Did he really have to monitor Aspen every step of the way? "Didn't Goodwitch say they were preparing a 'special' initiation, though?"

The point didn't sit well with the Huntress. Glynda _had_ said "special" in a really weird way, but surely they couldn't have arranged this in such a short time, right? "You think they intentionally put a herd of Goliaths in the forest as a part of the test?"

Mantis shrugged. "It did seem like this was supposed to be a life-or-death sort of thing." Laurel still didn't like it, but she couldn't really argue the point either. It was a question for another day.

(-)

After several minutes of running without encountering any more Grim, Aspen finally came out of the trees again. Ahead of her was a spacious area bordered on two sides by large stone pillars almost as tall as the Goliaths. Slowing her pace, she looked around at the structures. They seemed old to her, though she wasn't sure what it was about them that made them seem that way to her. The color? No, stones were supposed to be gray. Was it that they were all broken? That might have been it. As she climbed the hill, more of the _**ruins**_ came into sight, spanning across a wide chasm before edging up to a tall cliff. These structures seemed much more broken than the ones she was walking past, though that didn't feel terribly significant in any way.

At the edge of the cliff on her side of the chasm, Aspen saw a rounded area with a small podium sitting between two pillars. Approaching it, she found a pair of fairly large and identically shaped stones. Two rounded layers made up the short bases while the tall bodies quickly sloped outward before tapering up. The caps had the most unusual shapes, small points jutting out from a round dome with a smaller ball sitting on top. The only difference between the two stones was the color: One was black while the other was yellow. If she was supposed to pick between them, the choice was obvious. Grabbing the black stone, she pushed it into her hoodie pocket and turned around.

As the girl took a step, she felt... _something._ It was as if she had been completely submerged in warm water. _No, not water:_ _ **Blood.**_ Just as quickly as it had appeared, though, the feeling was gone, leaving Aspen feeling cold.

She stopped, trying to work out what had just happened. Did... Did the stone do that? No, it had almost felt like aura. There was something off about it, though, something she couldn't quite place. She'd felt it strongly for a brief moment before it vanished, as if the person had been standing next to her and simply disappeared. Whatever it was, it hadn't been human or animal. This was something _new._ She wanted to investigate, but she needed to finish her initiation first. Zipping up her hoodie she began running back toward the forest.

* * *

 **IMPORTANT: If you don't typically read these notes, don't leave just yet. I'm trying something new this time around and having an epilogue of sorts, and bits of the next few chapters won't make sense if you don't read it.**

 **Looking back, I remember this chapter feeling like a bit of a mouthful when I wrote it. To be fair, it is around 6000 words, but that's not much longer than most other chapters I write, and certainly nothing compared to the last chapter of Wayward Son. Maybe it had to do with how many times it took me to write that Goliath fight.**

 **The idea for that scene actually came from a guy named Recycler, the one who also pitched me the idea for this story. We went back and forth about some of the details, such as how many and how big the Goliaths were, as well as when to include it in the story. We ended up figuring all that stuff out with Aspen winning the fight, but as I was writing it, it actually felt more natural and interesting for her to lose (and boy did she lose). Obviously, though, it was enough to catch someone's attention…**

 **Speaking of which, it's a little weird for me how interconnected the chapters in this story are. With Wayward Son, each chapter is essentially a self-contained story, or at most occurs as a direct result of the previous chapter. With this story, I'm finding myself intentionally setting up threads not necessarily dependant on the ending of each chapter. I think they call that getting better. Huh.**

 **Okay, that's it for this bit. Here's your epilogue.**

* * *

 **EPILOGUE:**

Aspen didn't encounter a single Grim on her way back. It occurred to her at one point that she may have killed anything in her path on her way out, but she didn't think on it too long and simply continued running. It wasn't until she came to a familiar gap in the trees that she stopped. A few pieces of white bone lay in the grass, discarded from her first encounter with the Beowolves, including the mask she had torn off and pinned through the Grim's head. Bending down, the girl pulled the plate from where it stood impaled in the dirt before dusting it off and examining it.

A few spots were worn and pitted, more so than what she remembered, but it seemed otherwise intact. Without the creature behind it, it didn't possess quite the same level of menace, but with a little black behind it… Curious, Aspen lifted the mask to her shoulder, the nose pointing up. That _did_ look good. With a smile, she flipped the bony plate in her hand and continued on.

* * *

 **This scene was important for a couple of moments later on, so it needed to be included. It doesn't really feel like a natural ending to the chapter for me, but it also doesn't make sense to include it in the next chapter. This felt like the best solution to me. How was it? Did it work well?**

 **At this point, I guess I should establish one of the "rules" of the story. I know what you're thinking: "Grimm bone staying after the body disappears? Insanity!" Here's the way it works in this: If the bone was removed before death, it sticks around. I've put a lot of thought into trying to explain how that would work, but since RWBY has a lot of "fantastical" elements, I shouldn't have to. Also, the show has kind of already set a precedent of things not immediately disintegrating (see Nevermore feathers and Taijitu tooth as examples), so I feel justified taking it a bit further.**

 **And** _ **that**_ **is all I have. Don't be shy if you have something you want to tell me about this story, and follow it if you want to see where it goes. Adieu!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey, there! I'm really sorry it's been so long since I updated last. Writing 5k+ word chapters is hard enough and, with life being as busy as it has been, focusing on writing is sometimes even harder. I appreciate the patience, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

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Ilex Jae stood in front of the dorm room door, using the mirror hung on the back to comb his hair. Carmine called it "preening", but he was an asshole, so the faunus didn't pay much attention to what his partner said. Besides, there was nothing wrong in wanting to give a good first impression, particularly when there was a girl joining their team.

Behind the white-haired teen, a shorter faunus made a few quick motions with his hands: pointing at Ilex, tapping the side of his head, running his fist along his jaw. | _How do you know it's a girl?_ |

Ilex smirked at the signed question. "I went through her stuff," he answered, staying focused on maneuvering his hair around the pair of lemur ears atop his head; Rhys could read his lips in the mirror.

"You did _what_?" Carmine growled to his left. The red-haired human was busy tidying up his personal desk-slash-workbench. As much as he had yelled at the pair of quote-unquote "filthy faunus" for messing up his things, they always seemed to be in more of a mess after he'd finished working.

Ilex ignored the reaction, snapping the comb back into his right bracer, Miss Cuerta. Adjusting the weapon on his arm, he gave himself one final inspection. _Handsome as ever._ "Relax, Embry." The way Carmine's face twisted up at being called by his last name was worth it every time. "I didn't touch anything I shouldn't." The faunus dropped onto his bed with a grin. "Then again, that depends on how you define 'shouldn't.' "

As expected, the human's scowl only deepened. "Disgusting," he muttered under his breath, turning back to his toys.

Ilex rolled his eyes. "Haven't heard that one before," he said sarcastically before tilting his head toward the other half of the room. The area around Rhys's—and their new teammate's—side of the room was, unsurprisingly, a disaster zone. The otter faunus may have been deaf, but he more than made up for his disability with unbridled energy, and it showed. Sitting back up, Ilex swung his arm to get Rhys's attention. "Hey!" he said loudly—perhaps unnecessarily so—gesturing toward the next bunk over. "Get your shit off her bed!"

Rhys scrambled to comply, snatching up the mess of tattered brown cloth from atop the unknown girl's pillows. He stood for several seconds, tail swinging restlessly as he looked between the robes and his own bed. Eventually, he made a decision and draped it over himself, covering the marginally more presentable blue-gray wetsuit he was wearing.

Ilex scoffed in annoyance. "No, man! I told you, you can't wear that!" The brown-haired teen just looked at him in confusion. "We're supposed to look good for the new girl!"

"And who the hell said _you_ get to make decisions like that?" Carmine asked, stepping away from his workbench with arms crossed. The human really wasn't much better himself, wearing a red-and-green pullover jacket with the sleeves rolled up, jeans, and combat boots. It was just a stripped down version of his combat gear but, as much as Ilex hated to admit it, he somehow managed to pull it off.

"Because I'm apparently the only one on this team with any fashion sense," the faunus answered, gesturing toward his own clothes. Like Rhys, he had opted to wear his full combat attire—it was his best outfit, really—so in addition to the gray dress shirt, purple vest and pants, and black dress boots, he wore his armor as well. In his opinion, the silver cuisses on his thighs and the spaulders over his shoulders and chest tied the whole ensemble together, making sure Miss Jwai and Miss Cuerta didn't look out of place on his forearms. "Besides," he added, standing up, "with Bren gone, we don't have a leader, and I'm _clearly_ the best choice."

Carmine looked as if he was about to argue—which, knowing him, he definitely was—but a knocking sound stopped him. Rushing to the door, Ilex checked his appearance one last time before opening it with a suave smile. "Heyyyyyyuuuuuuhhhhhhh…." he trailed off, finding himself looking not at a girl his own age, but a man around ten years older. Judging by his gear—complete with an actual duster and floppy leather hat—he was a Hunter, and one who was probably a little too into the old tales of the "cowboys" of Vacuo at that. "...what?"

Ilex was suddenly shoved aside as Rhys barged into the doorway. The look of excitement on his face quickly turned to confusion as he saw the Hunter. _|I thought you said it was a girl?_ | he signed, looking at his teammate.

"Yep, this is the right room," the man drawled, stepping back as he waved to someone off to the side. Ilex perked up as the person he'd been expecting stepped into view. Violet eyes made a practiced scan of the girl, talking in as much detail as they could in a single pass.

She was tall, just shy of six feet, and had to be a C-Cup at least. She had long black hair, red eyes, and pale skin, a combination that caused the hairs on the back of Ilex's neck to stand on end for some reason. He ignored the feeling and examined her outfit. It was rather simple, consisting of a black hoodie zipped up over a white shirt of some kind, a pair of jeans like Carmine's and sneakers. In one hand she held a replica Beowolf mask, which Ilex wasn't really sure what to think of. What he found most odd, though, were the cuts and holes all over her clothes.

The girl's Aura should have protected her clothes as well as her body. Maybe she had run out during her initiation? Many of the holes in her outfit were backed by what looked like scabs, and Ilex hadn't missed the slight limp in her step. Still he found it hard to believe that Beacon's administration would let a test for a single girl reach a point where she'd be hurt this badly. On top of that, some of the wounds seemed too big to have healed as much as they had, and there wasn't even any blood visible. Maybe she had extremely tight control over her Aura? Or maybe her Semblance let her heal extremely quickly?

Ilex pushed the thoughts away; they weren't important. What _was_ important was introducing himself and finding out this girl's name—she wasn't what he normally looked for, but that wasn't enough to make him pass up the opportunity. Subtly forcing Rhys out of the way, he took her left hand and lifted it up. Curiously, her fingers were discolored—almost black—and had a slightly different texture to them. "Hey," he said smoothly, ignoring the peculiarity while giving her his most charming smile. "My name's Ilex Jae. What's yours?"

Remarkably, the girl looked completely unfazed by his advances, looking down at his hand with a slight furrow in her brow. "Aspen Gray," she answered, pulling her hand from his grip and dropping it back to her side. It wasn't a quick or disgusted pull, though, so that was a win—not that Ilex would have let that stop him anyway.

"Aspen, hm?" the faunus mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "How appropriately beau—" He was interrupted as Rhys again forcefully inserted himself between the two. The brown-haired teen pointed at Aspen before quickly drawing two circles perpendicular to his body with his index fingers. Ilex's ears twitched in annoyance, but he did his best to salvage the situation. "Ah, sorry. This is Rhys Bauril, and I guess he's going to be your partner now," he explained, placing his hands on the shorter teen's shoulders and moving him back off to the side. "He's deaf, but he can read lips and talk through sign language. If you need a translator, I'd be more than willing to offer my services." As he spoke, Rhys continued repeating the two signs, clearly ignorant of what was going on. Ilex cuffed the shorter faunus's head, getting his attention. "Stop it! Clearly she _doesn't_ sign!"

The otter faunus's face fell somewhat, but he turned as Aspen slowly raised one hand. Almost hesitantly, she looked the teen in the eyes and nodded her head and fist in unison. | _Yes._ |

Rhys turned on Ilex with a grin, letting out a breathy sound that could almost be interpreted as a "ha!" The white-haired teen rolled his eyes and waved it off. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Laugh it up…"

Without any further word or gesture, Aspen stepped around the two faunus and into the room. It was only at that point that Ilex noticed the other woman standing outside the door. She was around the same age as the man—meaning they were probably partners—but that didn't make her any less attractive. She had orange eyes and hair, the latter of which was pulled back into a short ponytail. Like the man, she seemed to be a fan of the Vacuan stories, if her orange-and-yellow poncho was anything to go by. While the garment partially obscured her torso, the rest of her outfit showed _plenty_ of skin. Whatever she wore beneath the poncho was sleeveless, while a pair of white chino shorts and orange-and-white tennis shoes showed off her fit, tanned legs. Ilex had to admit that he was a little jealous of the man in the duster, but the faunus was smart enough to know that she was well beyond his reach.

The faunus turned back into the room to see Carmine staring down his— _their_ new teammate, arms crossed. To her credit, Aspen seemed to be staring back just as hard. Shaking his head, Ilex stepped up next to the girl. " Last—and most certainly least—we have my partner, Carmine Embry. He's an ass, though, so you can ignore him."

The redhead turned his glare on Ilex, who smiled simply in return. With one last look at Aspen, Carmine said, "Nice to have another human on the team," before walking back to his workbench.

The lemur faunus smirked at his victory. "Like I said, he's an ass."

Aspen didn't seem to pay any attention to him, though, and simply walked over to the unoccupied bunk, which only had bedding and a small suitcase on it now that Rhys had removed his ragged tunic. "This is mine?" she asked, looking toward the two Hunters still standing in the doorway.

Ilex intercepted the question, wanting to take every advantage he could to increase his chances with the girl. "Yep!" Again, she barely acknowledged him, tossing the Beowolf mask on the bed before beginning to remove her hoodie. Ilex frowned. He'd understandably struck out with women on occasion, but he'd never been _ignored_ like this before. It almost didn't seem worth it but, at the same time, he didn't want to give up so easily. Moving over, he picked up the faux Grimm mask. "Nice replica," he commented, inspecting the details. Whoever had made it certainly chose their material well, but the surface quality was amateurish. The inside was pitted in several areas, particularly near the top, and the outside was rough and scratched. "It almost seems real."

Aspen didn't so much as glance at him while she pulled her arms out of her sleeves. "It _is_ real."

The faunus chuckled. "You don't expect me to believe that, do you?" Finally, he got a reaction out of the girl. She looked at him, head cocked and eyes narrowed, as if she actually _did_ expect him to believe her. "Everyone knows that Grimm dissolve when they die. That includes all their bones and plates."

"That wasn't attached when it died."

It took Ilex a good two seconds to figure out what she had meant. He looked down at the red and white mask. _Does that mean she…?_ "…Oh." He hadn't even been aware that that was possible. His surprise at the answer didn't last long as, in his peripheral vision, he saw something that surprised him even more. Having removed her hoodie, Aspen continued to strip, now pulling her shirt over her head. The faunus quickly glanced around the room, seeing that all the others had almost the exact same look of shock on their faces before quickly looking back at the girl.

From where he stood, Ilex was able to get a glimpse of the front of her torso. Of course, she was wearing a sports bra— _Dammit!_ —but that didn't deter him from absorbing all the detail that he could. She was fit, as could be expected for a Huntress-in-training, and her pale skin was smooth, only marred by the various scabs and pockmarks from her wounds. Actually, that wasn't entirely true; there was a single, medium gray scar over her stomach. It was large—probably six or seven inches long and an inch wide near the bottom—but clean, meaning she had more likely been stabbed than cut and that whatever had done the stabbing was quite large and sharp. He leaned over to look at her back. His suspicions were confirmed by the matching scar less than an inch away from her spine. _How the hell did that not paralyze her?_ Ilex mused before giving a small shake of his head. _Better question: How did she_ _ **survive**_ _that?_

The faunus never got an answer to his question as the poncho-woman rushed over to Aspen just as she was about to take off her pants. "Why don't we find somewhere else for you to change?" she suggested quickly, even as Ilex screamed internally for her to let things take their course. The woman glanced at him disapprovingly before adding, "And put the shirt back on." Aspen complied with a single nod, crushing Ilex's hopes. The woman grabbed the suitcase from the bed and led the girl out of the room.

With a sigh, Ilex tossed the Grimm mask on the girl's pillow. "So close," he lamented quietly. On the other side of the bed, Rhys scurried over to inspect the bony plate.

"So who are you supposed to be?" Carmine asked, snapping Ilex out of his funk. The faunus looked up to see that he was addressing the Hunter and tapped Rhys's shoulder to get his attention.

"Oliver Cyprus," the man said, stepping into the room. "From now on, though, you're going to call me Mantis." Ilex rolled his eyes; he was one of _those_ Hunters. "The woman is my partner, Laurel Tawn. Call her Tawny. The two of us are going to serve as your handlers for the remainder of the semester."

Rhys hopped over the bed. Bringing his fingers to his forehead, he dropped them down into a "y" before putting both fists in front of himself and moving them back and forth. "Why do we need handling?" Ilex translated, agreeing with the question.

Carmine scoffed. "Probably because the two of you are so close to dropping out like Bren."

Ilex glared at the human, prepared to defend himself, but "Mantis" spoke first. "Because _all_ of you are in danger of dropping out. You're lucky Aspen is even here to fill your team back up. Not that what I've seen of you even resembles a team." The man paused to cross his arms. "To be honest, I don't give a shit about the three of you. I care about Aspen, and she wants to be a Huntress, so if any of you do anything to jeopardize that, I will _not_ hesitate to make your lives even more of a hell than I'm already going to make it, understand?"

If the man was expecting them to nod in fear or something like that, he clearly didn't understand them that well. Carmine scoffed and went back to his workbench, while Rhys just shrugged. Ilex tapped at his chin in thought, having latched onto something the Hunter had said. "You know Aspen pretty well, then? What's her story? Is she related to you?"

Mantis looked at him, though he didn't show any sign of being caught off-guard. Then there was a small crack in his façade. It was just a slight tightening of the lips, but Ilex saw it. "No, we're not related," he answered flatly. "She's just… the daughter of a friend—" _That_ was a lie. "—and she's been through a lot to get here."

 _|Like what happened with Team RWBY?|_ Rhys signed quickly.

Ilex looked at him in confusion. "Wait, what happened with Team RWBY?"

"It's—"

"Aspen jumped into the arena after their match and attacked them," Carmine answered, interrupting Mantis. "Where the hell were you?"

Ilex thought back. _What was I doing during that fight…_ "I think I was talking with one of those girls from Team NDGO. Nebula, I think."

His partner shook his head. "Figures."

"Look," Mantis said, cutting back in. "What happened in the arena isn't important. Classes don't start again until after the tournament, so tomorrow morning we're going to work on improving your combat scores. Room five. Don't be late." The man turned and began closing the door behind him.

"Wait, what time tomorrow morning?"

The Hunter stared directly at Ilex. " _Don't be late._ "

(-)

Silence dominated Team RWBY's dorm room, only broken by the occasional turning of pages from Weiss or Blake and scratching of brush bristles on metal as Ruby tended to Crescent Rose. Sitting up on her bed, Yang was trying to distract herself with a game on her scroll—key word, _trying_. She sighed. It had been a whole day since the whole thing with that Aspen girl, and even though they'd "talked" about it, they had yet to actually _talk_ about it, and that was bothering her.

Closing her scroll, the blonde leaned over the side of her bunk to look down at her partner. The faunus had absorbed herself in a book, though Yang couldn't make out a title on the cover. She had pulled her legs up close to her chest, almost to the point of being curled up into a ball. "Hey, Blake?" The black-haired girl gave a hum of acknowledgement, not looking up from her book. "Are you, y'know, feeling okay?"

Blake put her book down and gave her a curious look. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Yang frowned and glanced up at the bottom of her own bed. "I dunno. I guess I just wanted to make sure you were alright after what happened yesterday."

The faunus smiled reassuringly. "Yang, we talked about this. She didn't have the ribbon around my neck long enough to do any permanent damage. I'm fine." Yang sighed quietly, envious of her partner's ability to just… move on from what had happened to her, to ignore the fact that the other girl had been trying to kill her. Blake began to turn back to her book, but stopped to address the blonde again. "Are _you_ okay?"

Yang pursed her lips. She knew that a part of her had been hoping Blake would ask—to actually initiate a discussion—but answering wasn't as easy as she had anticipated. "I'm not sure," she finally said, sitting back up on her bed. She caught a glimpse of Weiss turning in her seat, away from the book she'd been studying and toward her teammates. Ruby briefly stopped brushing her scythe in the corner, but she never looked away from her work.

Yang took a breath and continued, looking up at the ceiling. "I mean, other than being a little sore, I feel fine. It's just… when I think about the fight…"

"You wonder how we could possibly win the tournament if we could barely beat just one person?" Weiss finished, wearing her own look of confliction. Apparently, she'd been having similar thoughts.

"It's not just the tournament; it's everything," Yang explained, shaking her head. Self-conscious, she looked down at her hands. "Ever since I was a girl, I've relied on my strength and my Semblance to get through fights, but I don't know if it's enough anymore. This is the second time I couldn't even get a hit in. It's the second time I've had to be rescued because I let my temper get out of control, except this time it almost got you all killed too."

Weiss frowned, and Yang could practically feel Blake doing the same thing beneath her. "It's true you can be a bit... short-tempered at times," the heiress finally said, clearly trying to choose her words delicately, "but that doesn't mean you can't lean on your strengths. That's why we're a team, so we can cover each other's weaknesses."

"Yeah, but you guys won't always be here."

"No, we won't." Leave it to Blake to be blunt with her honesty. "In three years we'll graduate and go our separate ways. Until then, we help each other learn to cover our own weaknesses."

"Exactly," Weiss agreed. "And as far as you almost getting us killed, if you remember, she attacked _us_." She crossed her arms authoritatively. "So here's what's going to happen: You and I are going to go into the doubles round and beat whoever they put us against. Then _you_ are going to go into the finals and beat everyone there, and we'll be with you every step of the way, right Ruby?"

All eyes turned to the younger girl sitting in the corner, still scrubbing away at Crescent Rose. She didn't answer, and Yang's instincts immediately told her that something was off. Ruby's strokes were more forceful than usual, almost frantic. "Ruby?" The girl's brushing reached a peak, and a strangled cry escaped from her throat. Yang was out of her bed and grabbing hold of her sister before the others could even react, her own troubles forgotten. "Ruby, what's wrong?!"

The girl's silver eyes were welling up with tears as she spoke. "I can't… I can't get the blood out!" The room fell into a stunned silence as Yang hugged her sister, who returned the embrace as she began crying freely. Sparing a glance at the scythe, Yang saw that Ruby had been scrubbing at the red paint, taking off small flakes and chips here and there.

Yang felt incredibly guilty as she held her sister's shaking form. Weiss had told her and Blake what had happened between Ruby and Aspen and, from the sounds of it, it hadn't been pretty. She had seemed better after talking with Ozpin the day before and had even told them that Aspen was somehow going to be okay, so Yang hadn't pushed the issue. Her own insecurities were nothing compared to what Ruby was clearly going through. _I should have talked to her!_

A knock on the door interrupted the silence, and Weiss went over to answer it. "I'm sorry, but this isn't—" She took a sharp breath, evidently surprised by whoever was at the door. "I... How...? What are _you_ doing here?!"

"Laurel told me to come apologize."

Ruby tensed in Yang's arms. _That voice._ The blonde looked up to see a familiar girl standing passively in the doorway. _Aspen._ She wanted to get up and give the girl a piece of her mind, but there was no way she could leave her sister in the state she was in. "We don't need your apology," she growled.

Aspen clenched her fists as if holding herself back, but whatever emotion she was feeling gave way to uncertainty, her mouth opening and closing several times without any words. "I don't understand…" she finally said.

Yang would have ripped into her then and there, but Weiss spoke up first. "You don't understand what you're apologizing for," she asked, her tone biting as ever, "or you don't understand why we wouldn't want your apology?"

The black-haired girl stared unblinking at the heiress. "I don't understand what apologizing is."

The stunned silence in the room was broken by Yang's scoff. "Of course you don't," she derided. "Just get out of here and stay away from us." With a look down at her, Aspen nodded and turned to leave.

"Wait."

She stopped at the softly spoken word. Yang looked down at her sister as she pulled away. "Ruby?"

Rubbing her eyes on her sleeve, the younger teen shakily stood up and turned around. When she saw Aspen, she inhaled sharply. "Y—You're alright. How?"

Yang's anger faded as she remembered what Ruby had supposedly done to the girl. From what she'd heard, Crescent Rose had severed Aspen's spine, or at least come close. Ruby had said the medical crews had been able to save her life, but she should have been paralyzed at the very least, to say nothing of being active a day later. As much as she disliked the mysterious girl, Yang was admittedly curious.

Once again, though, Aspen didn't seem to know how to respond. "I… I heal fast." She cocked her head. "Is that not normal?"

"Our Auras will heal minor injuries fairly quickly, but no, _that's_ not normal," Blake explained with a hint of skepticism as Yang stood up to join her team.

Aspen looked down, furrowing her brow as she absorbed the information, and the blonde matched the expression. The girl may have been strong and a good fighter, but she had to be incredibly naïve to think _that_ was normal. _Wait, does she even have an Aura, then? Is she really just that strong on her own?_

Ruby took a step toward the black-haired girl in the doorway, triggering Yang's protective instincts and snapping her out of her thoughts. "Can… Can I see?" Ruby asked, pointing a shaky hand toward Aspen's abdomen. The girl hesitated for a moment, but nodded slowly. With one hand, she reached up and unzipped her hoodie in one motion. Ruby flinched on seeing the Beowolf mask on the girl's shirt, but continued anyway. Reaching forward, she carefully lifted the shirt until she could see the entire scar. Yang's stomach knotted at the sight.

The vertical mark was an ashen gray, a striking contrast with the pale skin surrounding. It was roughly triangular in shape and easily half a foot long; in other words, it was a prefect cross-section of Crescent Rose's blade. There was an eerie quality to it, and Yang found it difficult convincing herself that it had only happened the day before. There were several other dark patches of what almost looked like fibrous scabs. Judging by what Yang knew to be an older scar, she guessed these were much fresher, but she had no idea how she could have gotten them.

Ruby's fingertips brushed the discolored flesh and Aspen tensed, causing the younger girl to flinch away. Yang took a half step forward as the shirt fell back down. "Does it hurt?" Ruby asked, sounding as though she were afraid she had hurt her again.

"No, it doesn't," Aspen answered. She seemed to have relaxed, looking down as she lifted her left hand to her stomach. Yang hadn't seen it before, but the fingers on that hand had a ragged discoloration to them, darker than the scar Ruby had given her. Just what had she done to herself?

Ruby studied the other girl for several seconds before she spoke. "You won't do it again, will you?" Aspen's brow furrowed at the question. "Promise me you won't attack anyone like that again!" Ruby's voice was louder, and she was on the brink of tears again. Yang wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around her sister again, but she could tell her intervention wouldn't help anything.

There was a moment of silence before Aspen nodded. "I promise."

Ruby returned the nod with a small smile. "Apology accepted." Yang shared a skeptical look with Weiss and Blake. Ruby could forgive her all she wanted, but they would still keep an eye on her.

Without warning, Ruby proceeded to throw her arms around the girl. Yang winced sympathetically; while Aspen had said the scar hadn't hurt, Ruby was currently pressing herself up against at least three of her fresher wounds. If Aspen felt any discomfort, however, she didn't show it, merely looking around uncertainly as Ruby hugged her. "I still don't know what that means."

(-)

The statue that stood in front of Beacon Academy meant different things to different people. To some, it was a symbol of hope and triumph, Mankind standing tall over the monsters that sought to wipe them out. To others, it was a reminder that no matter how far they came, there would always be a need for protection from the beasts waiting just outside their borders. To Emerald Sustrai, it was a piece of art that was impossible to capitalize on.

The teen sighed and looked up at the darkened sky. After she'd heard about the new student being inducted into the academy, Cinder had had her and Mercury watch the initiation and evaluate her. Despite his initial protests, Merc had actually refused to give up the scroll once the girl had jumped off the cliff, and things had only escalated from there. Fighting with her bare hands, tearing bone plates from live Grimm, actively seeking them out… Emerald could understand her partner's interest in the girl; they had the same type of crazy.

What had simply seemed like an overzealous student had quickly become something much more noteworthy when the girl attacked—actually _attacked_ —a herd of Goliaths. Not only did she manage to kill two of them and partially blind a third, she'd also managed to escape despite having been impaled on the Grimm's spikes and with what must have been multiple broken bones. The pair had immediately told their boss about the incident, and she hadn't even hesitated to arrange a meeting. A meeting Emerald and Mercury also had to attend.

"I've been waiting for you."

 _She's here._ Using her Semblance to blind the new arrival to her and Mercury's presence, Emerald peered around the statue. The girl lacked any sign of her earlier injuries and was wearing the same outfit she'd been wearing during initiation, though judging by the lack of blood or holes, she'd changed the individual articles of clothing. _Why do some people seem to only ever have one outfit?_ Emerald could understand having a certain level of attachment to combat gear, but there were limits.

"I had to talk to people," the girl said flatly, keeping her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. "Why did you want to meet me here?"

That was a good question, one Mercury had asked after Cinder had sent the message. They were beyond the point where they needed anyone else's help, and the team she was being placed on wasn't even eligible to compete in the Vytal Tournament. As Cinder had noted, however, she was still an unknown and potentially dangerous variable; better to have her on their side than risk her interfering at a crucial moment.

"It's 'Aspen', isn't it?" Cinder asked, and the girl nodded. "I simply want to be friends, Aspen. Is there something wrong with that?"

Aspen didn't answer immediately, mouthing something to herself. Eventually, she looked back up at Cinder. "I don't need a 'friend'," she said, turning to walk away.

"Then what _do_ you want? I'm certain we can come to some arrangement."

The girl stopped before turning just enough to look back. "I want to kill Grimm." The answer was cold, unaffected by the morbidity of the statement.

Emerald shivered involuntarily. There was just something about the girl that made her feel uneasy. _She and Merc were_ _ **made**_ _for each other._

"Of course you do," Cinder replied with false sympathy, taking several steps closer. "That's why you came to Beacon. You think they can teach you to be stronger, but I can see that you are already beyond anything they could teach you here." Aspen looked up at the woman, who ran the back of her hand along the side of the girl's face, though her red eyes held the same impassivity she'd had since the two had started speaking. "Come with me and I can show you _true_ power; the kind that will let you kill anything you want."

The words were familiar in Emerald's ears, and she recalled Cinder saying something similar to her. _Only this time, she's bluffing._ There was no way Cinder would allow anyone to become more powerful than herself, but by the time Aspen figured that out, it would be too la—

"No."

Emerald arched an eyebrow in surprise. The offer had been tempting, even for her. This girl seemed to want nothing more than to kill, so what reason would she have to turn Cinder down? "Take some time to consider the offer," the woman started, still trying to sound civil. "Perhaps you'll—"

"I don't need you to make me stronger," Aspen interrupted, turning away again. "I can do it on my own."

Cinder's fists tightened and began to glow as she drew on her powers. Emerald glanced over at Mercury on the opposite side of the statue, and he looked back at her with an eyebrow raised. Cinder was mad, and that meant it was time for them to step in.

"Shame," the woman crooned, her voice cloyingly sweet. That was the signal. Emerald gave her partner a nod to indicate that she was ready, and Mercury gave a dramatic—though thankfully silent—sigh in return before moving around to the front of the statue. Keeping her focus on affecting Aspen's senses, Emerald barely perceived Mercury advancing on the girl and aiming a kick at her head. So long as the thief was doing her job right—and, of course, she was—the girl would never see it coming.

Aspen moved impossibly fast, spinning around to catch the blow on her forearms. By the look of it, she was acting on instinct, grabbing Merc's leg with one hand while pulling back the other for a punch at his knee. The boy acted quickly, kicking upward with his other leg in an attempt to catch the girl under the chin, but Aspen jumped away to avoid the kick, forced to release the other leg in the process. Her eyes were wide and unfocused, looking straight through her attacker. She couldn't have seen or heard him, so how could she have known he was coming?

Cinder held up her hand, and Mercury backed away from Aspen. Disengaging her Semblance, Emerald walked around the statue to join them. The girl's eyes soon locked onto the gray haired teen before flitting to Emerald and finally back to Cinder. She snarled at the trio, but held off attacking. "Do you even know what you are?" Cinder asked unexpectedly. Emerald looked at her out of the corner of her eye, but said nothing. There was always more going on than she and Merc were allowed to know, and this seemed to be one of those moments. Aspen didn't respond to the question, continuing to bare her teeth defiantly. "I'll give you one last chance. If you are what I think you are, then you're already on the wrong side."

 _I don't think I_ _ **want**_ _to know what she's talking about._

Aspen straightened up, though her stance showed she was still ready for a fight if one came. " _I don't care_." With a growl, she pivoted one final time and left.

Emerald brought her hand to one of the revolvers holstered on her back, looking to Cinder for the signal to go after the girl. It never came. "Keep an eye on her," the woman instructed instead, a glow of anger in her eyes. The green-haired girl looked at her partner, who gave her a smirk and raised his eyebrows suggestively. With a scoff, Emerald let her hand drop and began walking toward the school.

The finals round of the tournament couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

 **Plots are moving and people are scheming...**

 **I finally get to introduce more characters! Writing for them—at least, for Ilex so far—is a lot of fun because they're so different from what I'm used to writing. For the most part, all I've really written in my stories are characters who are either basically good or, for lack of a better phrase, emotionally dead. Now I have characters who are just straight up** _ **bad people**_ **(not evil, just kind of scummy). It's interesting, though, because they're actually** _ **worse**_ **than I had initially planned them out to be, and with Ilex it's to the point where I actually feel a little uncomfortable with some of the stuff I'm planning. Exactly what I was going for, I guess.**

 **Speaking of the new characters, full disclaimer: as much as I enjoy having a deaf character, I do** _ **not**_ **know sign language. I'm aware that the sentence structure isn't like conventional English, and I'm looking up actual signs to try and get it as right as possible, but that doesn't mean I know what I'm doing. Just wanted to put that out there.**

 **So, remember when I said a plate of cookies wasn't going to magically fix everything for Ruby? Yeaaaaaaaah… this was what I was talking about. To be honest, that entire scene was originally just an excuse to include that moment, but it actually evolved beyond that. Events are going to be changing even more because of Aspen's actions—some for the better, some arguably for the worse—and that scene was just the start of it.**

 **And now I get to talk about the last scene. I initially had it from Cinder's perspective, but I found it difficult to write in her "voice," and things didn't really come together to my liking. If anything, I felt like having it from her perspective gave away and hinted at too much, so having the scene be from another character's point of view—one who knows enough but not too much—was really the better option. Emerald seemed like the best fit for the scene, and I actually managed to rewrite the entire scene in just a few hours.**

 **Well, that about does it. Unfortunately, it might be a while before the next chapter (I'm trying to work out a solution to my writing issues), but feel free to let me know what you thought about this one. Au revoir!**


	9. Chapter 9

Cold walls. Hard floor. Subtle air movement against his bare skin. _Again?_ Carmine opened his eyes to the hauntingly familiar perspective his position gave him. Sitting in the corner, back against the walls, arms draped over bent legs. He sighed to himself. _Again._

Placing his hands on his knees, Carmine pushed himself to his feet. A glance at his bed—blanket and sheets strewn about in a messy pile—told him nothing new. He looked at the others in the still-dark room. The two faunus were still asleep as they usually were on such mornings, Ilex laying on his side facing away from his partner and Rhys somehow draped over the entirety of his bed, but Aspen was nowhere to be seen.

Carmine had found it difficult to get a read on his new teammate. There was something… _off_ about her that he couldn't exactly place. He had developed an eye for immediately picking out faunus, even those who tried to hide it, and Aspen wasn't one. Based solely on their interaction the day before, she seemed as if she didn't quite understand how to interact with people. When she had come back from doing whatever she had done after changing, she had simply lain in her bed and stared at her Beowolf mask, almost completely ignoring Ilex's attempts at small-talk. _Smart of her._

Smoothing out his bed as best he could, Carmine pulled a shirt from the closet and pulled it over his head. He quickly swapped his shorts for a pair of belted jeans before walking over to Ilex's bed and kicking the mattress as hard as he could. The faunus jolted awake, shooting his partner a tired glare. "The hell—?! Asshole, I told you not to do that!" Carmine grunted in response, sitting down to put a pair of socks on. Ilex sat up with a groan. "What time is it?"

"Don't care. We don't know when we're supposed to meet Mantis, so earlier is better."

Grumbling, Ilex scratched at the back of his head as he looked at the next bed over. "Where's Aspen?"

Carmine shrugged. "Don't know. Gone when I woke up." Slipping on his boots, the teen quickly laced them up. "She might be with Mantis already." He grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, pointing toward the still-sleeping Rhys. "Make sure the animal gets up."

The human heard a quiet "Prick," from his partner before he shut the door behind himself. It occurred to him that that had been one of the most civil exchanges between them in the last month at least. Shrugging it off, he made his way to the locker room to retrieve the rest of his gear.

Stillness prevailed over the Beacon campus, birds providing Carmine the only reprieve from the otherwise painful silence as he followed what he had long ago mapped to be the shortest route to his destination. By the time he reached the locker room, the sun was just beginning to edge up over the horizon.

Carmine opened his locker to see his gear exactly where he'd left it. It was perhaps a bit more crowded than most others, but experience had taught him that every piece was vital. Bending down, he began by strapping the pair of shin-guards to his legs before grabbing a large pouch that hung from one of the hooks. After a quick check confirmed that the set of optics were still inside, he looped one of the holster-style straps around his belt before securing the pouch with another strap wrapped around his left leg. Another set of pouches followed after, each containing a vial of Dust, and he clipped them onto his belt.

A pair of quivers was all that remained in the locker. Carmine pulled out the smaller, more rectangular of the two and counted the number of bolts it held. _Fifty. Perfect._ Once he'd strapped the quiver around his waist and secured it to his right hip, he pulled the second quiver containing his weapon and slung it over his shoulders. _Time to see if I'm late or not._

As it turned out, Carmine was not late. Entering training room five, he found it to be empty, with no sign of Mantis or Tawny. _Really should have expected this._ Leaving the lights turned off, he walked to the far side of the room and sat down against the wall. The velcro holding the pouch on his thigh closed gave a quiet ripping sound as he opened it and removed the optics inside.

" _ **You'll sit there until you get it right!"**_

Rubbing his left shoulder, Carmine slipped the glasses-like device onto his face. A tap on the side caused the dark room to take on various shades of green, giving the human near-perfect night vision. _There. Happy now?_

The teen sat in silence for several minutes, trying to ignore the dull ache in his upper arm, until the door finally opened again. "Opened" was a fairly uncharitable way to describe just what Rhys had done when he entered, but it was appropriate enough. As the shorter faunus wildly looked around in confusion, Mantis strolled in behind him, eating what looked to be either a bagel or a doughnut. Carmine barely had time to disable his optics and avoid being blinded before the Hunter hit the light switch.

As the lights came on, Rhys locked his eyes onto the teen, having apparently been looking for him. He let out a strange-sounding grunt to get Mantis's attention as he pointed to Carmine, who was rising to his feet. The Hunter regarded him with surprise before nodding and taking another bite of his bagel. "Figured you'd be da firs' one down here," he said around the food in his mouth. Mercifully, he swallowed before speaking again. "Rhys ran into me on his way to get his… uh…" He glanced at the massive cylinder the faunus carried easily on his back. "…whatever _that_ is. He was trying to say something, but I don't speak sign language."

The energetic teen turned to Carmine and flashed his hands in front of himself. | _Ilex said you and Aspen would be down here already. Where is she?_ | he asked, looking around again.

 _Good question._ "Where's Aspen?" Carmine asked, looking toward the Hunter who was finishing off the last of his simple breakfast.

"She… She's got something else she's working on," he answered, brushing a few crumbs from his stubble. Despite his laid-back demeanor, Carmine picked up on the edge in the man's voice. "Something else" was probably not something they wanted to know about. "I'm guessing Ilex is taking his time getting ready?"

Carmine shrugged. "Probably. Guy's so vain you'd think he was a peacock." He hadn't actually encountered many non-mammalian faunus, but he knew they existed.

A frown appeared on the man's face as he approached the two teens. "Alright. We'll start with you, then." His eyebrow twitched downward, and it occurred to Carmine that he may have stepped over a line he shouldn't have. "What's your Semblance?"

The human bristled at the question. "I'm sure you have our files, so you already know the answer."

Mantis shrugged and began to pace. "We do, but I haven't actually read them yet." Judging from the circumstances, that was likely a lie. At the very least, he had some knowledge of their contents. "So… enlighten me."

Carmine sighed. "I don't have one."

"Why not?"

"Don't know," he answered truthfully, turning his palms up to show his own bemusement. "Maybe I just don't need one."

The Hunter stopped and regarded him with a look of curiosity. "What makes you say that?"

Carmine crossed his arms. "If I need something to make myself better, I can always make it myself."

"I assume that's why your weapon is what it is?"

 _I knew you were lying._ Recognizing the unspoken request, Carmine reached back and removed his weapon from its quiver. The mass of short, black rods was deceptively simple looking. If one were to guess at their function, they might suppose it was a whip of some kind. While they would technically not be wrong, they would be grossly underestimating the weapon's potential. "Dynamic Mechanically Actuated Kinetic Rods," he said, aware of the pride in his own voice, "but you already know that."

"That's a bit of a mouthful, and not wholly creative," Mantis commented, giving it a once-over.

Carmine frowned. "Ilex calls it DyMAKiR. I don't really see the point in giving it a name."

The man shrugged before giving a small and surprisingly genuine smile. "Show me what it can do."

Out of the corner of his eye, Carmine saw Rhys looking at him with an expectant grin. Resisting the urge to scowl, he used a series of taps on the rod he held to call up one of the designs he'd preprogrammed into the weapon. In an instant, the black rods shifted themselves to form a handle within his grip, a cross guard over his hand, and a long, single-edged blade extending from it.

The teen gave the sword a few flashy swings to prove he knew how to use it before tapping out another combination. The rods reformed themselves again, taking the shape of a large spiked war hammer. He showed that one off a bit before changing the weapon a third time and swapping it to his left hand. Pulling one of the bolts from his quiver, he loaded it into the newly-composed crossbow before pointing it in Mantis's direction and pulling the trigger. The Hunter didn't even move as the projectile sliced through the air over his shoulder to bury itself in the door, mere inches from the eyes of a certain faunus trying to sneak in.

"What. The. HELL is wrong with you, Embry?!" Ilex shouted at his partner, ripping the bolt out of the door. "Actually, you know what, I don't really—"

"Ilex," Mantis greeted calmly, turning his attention to the faunus. Oddly enough, Carmine found himself feeling relieved that the Hunter wasn't focusing on him anymore. "Glad you could find the time to join us."

Ilex scratched at his jaw, looking around nervously. "I can't be _that_ late," he defended, though his tone lacked any real bite. Predictably, he shifted the subject to something else that was just as predictable. "So, where's Aspen?"

"You don't need to worry about her right now." There was a hint of menace in the man's voice, one that was not lost on the vain faunus as he nervously edged his way toward Rhys. The messily dressed teen had a stupid smile on his face as he looked between the pair, but his hands were practically spasming at his sides with impatient energy. "Now, you seem like the kind of guy who likes to show and impress people."

 _You're not wrong,_ Carmine mentally agreed, noting the uneasy smile on his partner's face.

"Impress me."

Ilex briefly furrowed his brow in confusion, but he soon grinned and walked toward the Hunter. Stopping just a few feet away, he gave the man a once over before crossing his arms. "Nice guns you have there," he commented, pointing at the man's waist.

With a twitch in the corner of his mouth, Ilex sprang backward, leaving a near-invisible cloud in his place. The instant he had both feet on the floor, the faunus leapt up in a forward flip. A flint ignitor snapped out of one of his vambraces into his hand and, as he passed over the man's head, he used it to spark off the gas.

Had he not been ready for it, the concussive blast from the faunus's Semblance would have been strong enough to rock Carmine back on his heels. Only he _had_ been expecting it. The whole maneuver had taken less than two seconds to perform, but the human had seen it coming a mile away thanks to one of Ilex's tells.

Apparently, Mantis had seen it coming as well; like the crossbow bolt, the blast hadn't seemed to phase the Hunter at all. In fact, as Ilex had passed over his head, he'd managed to both bat aside the hand reaching for his hat and tweak one of the faunus's ears. Despite his feelings toward the race, Carmine rarely resorted to physically abusing faunus—those without such restraint almost always wound up with a target on their back—and yet he still found himself suppressing a smirk at the annoyed look Ilex gave the Hunter as he rubbed at the pinched ear.

"If you're going to rely on deception in your fighting style," Mantis drawled, spinning on one heel to face the faunus, "you shouldn't be so obvious about it. That little smirk you get when you're about to try something?" He pointed up toward his own mouth. "Dead giveaway. Also, distracting someone by commenting on their weapon doesn't really work if you're looking at their hat. Now, _please_ tell you have a proper weapon hidden up those sleeves of yours." Ilex grumbled to himself, but curled his fists and rolled them in toward his body. A blade snapped out from each bracer; the right one was straight and wide while the left was pronged with serrated edges.

The Hunter cocked his head in impartial acknowledgement before turning to the third member of the team. The faunus was practically bouncing now, already pulling the large, blocky weapon from his back. "Rhys." The teen grinned and his eyes lit up. "I want you to sit over there," Mantis said calmly, pointing to one of the benches on the side of the room.

Up until that point, Carmine had assumed the man was just an ass, but now it was clear he was intentionally pushing their buttons. Rhys _loved_ fighting; it was practically the only thing he was good for. For Mantis to literally bench him and not even let him show his weapon was tantamount to torture for the faunus, and Carmine almost wished he'd thought of it. Not that he could exert any authority over his teammate.

Rhys looked at the man in confusion for several seconds before realizing he was serious. He bared his teeth in anger, shifting his weapon to his left hand so he could sign. | _Why?!_ |

It was a basic sign, and apparently Mantis didn't need it translated. "You'll only get in the way. Best you stay over there until I need you."

The otter faunus stood there, fingers twitching with unfinished words until he brought his weapon up to hold with both hands. For a moment, Carmine wondered if Rhys would try to attack the Hunter, but he instead spun and threw the blocky weapon toward the wall behind the bench. With both hands free, Rhys gave the man a double middle finger before stomping over to where his weapon had come to a rest.

There was a small frown on Mantis's face as he turned to address the two remaining teens. "Alright. Let's get started."

(-)

Aspen snarled as she dug her fingers deeper, trying to get a firm grip. The Boarbatusk squealed in protest, shaking its head as it tried to free itself from the girl grabbing at its face plate. Eventually, Aspen managed to flip the Grimm— _Why do they have_ _ **two**_ _"m's?"_ —onto its side and pin one of its larger tusks to the ground with her knee. Momentarily pulling one hand away, she snapped off the smaller pair of tusks with a single punch before the creature could use them to bite her leg. With both hands on the plate again, she braced herself against the Grimm with her foot and pulled.

The Boarbatusk screamed as the bone ripped away from its face, and Aspen examined the inside of the plate. Bits of flesh that still clung to the surface quickly evaporated, leaving it pitted with small indents. It didn't seem as though the damage would affect its durability like the last one did, so she set it aside. Shifting her position, she planted one hand against the now-exposed flesh between the Grimm's eyes and began digging at the plate over its muzzle. With a few pops and another squeal from the boar, the bone tore off, and Aspen set it aside as well. Satisfied that there was nothing else to scavenge from the beast, she moved her hands to its tusks to keep it immobilized as she stood up. With one foot on its bony shoulder, she jerked the Boarbatusk's head towards herself, snapping its neck.

As the corpse began to disintegrate, Aspen bent over to inspect her prizes. The muzzle plate was in a similar state as the face plate, and the girl was particularly drawn to the two barbed hooks toward the front. Lifting it up, she placed it against her leather-wrapped forearm. She would have to split it into two halves, but it otherwise suited her purposes nicely. Setting it into her bag with several other bone plates, she picked up the Grimm mask as well. Like the muzzle plate, it was wider and flatter than she would have liked but, set against the black leather on her thigh, it looked as if it would work as well.

Dropping the plate inside, Aspen swung the soft fabric container—Laurel had called it a "duffel bag"—onto her shoulder and closed her eyes. It was midday; she had been out in the forest for several hours, hunting Grimm in order to strip them of any plates she could use for armor. After what Ruby and the Goliaths had done to her, she knew she needed some way to protect herself in the future. She had broached the idea to Laurel early that morning and, while she had been annoyed for some reason, the Huntress had helped her get a set of black leather armor to use as a base. She had warned Aspen that it wouldn't breathe—of course it wouldn't; the animals the material had come from were dead—but the girl had already made her decision by that point.

Since she'd started her hunt, however, Aspen had sensed two people following her. Though she couldn't see them, she had felt their auras before: one like a piece of steel covered in dirt and the other felt like a prickly, green plant—a _cactus_ —caught in a _sandstorm_. It was the two teens from the night before, the ones who were with the woman who felt like rotted fruit. She wasn't sure why they were following her but, so long as they didn't interfere, she didn't care.

Continuing through the forest, Aspen found herself emerging into a familiar gap. Large furrows in the ground and scattered Grimm-bone spikes marked it as the site of her encounter with the Goliaths the day before. She felt a small pinprick of emotion, one she identified as _shame_. She pushed the feeling off with a huff.

Making to continue, the girl stopped as something caught her eye. One of the Goliaths' tusks lay in the dirt not far from the tree line, and she moved over to inspect it. The ivory bone had broken off somewhere near its base, but it appeared to be otherwise undamaged. She ran her fingers along the surface, brushing dirt and bits of wood from the grooved _striations_ along its length. When had it broken? She hadn't done it, and there hadn't been anyone else in the forest at the time, so how? Closing her eyes, she thought back to the final moments of the fight. The feeling of blood covering her arm as she buried it in the Goliath's eye, the intense pain as the bones in her arm snapped, the feeling of weightlessness as she was thrown off, the explosive cracking sound as... As what?

Aspen looked up at the trees nearest to her. They were several feet thick and had avoided being trampled when the Grimm had chased after her, but there was one that still bore a scar in spite of that. Judging by the height of the impact, it seemed as though the Goliath Aspen blinded had accidentally struck the tree in its throes and snapped its tusk off.

Satisfied with her analysis, Aspen looked back at the bone. It wouldn't serve any practical use for her armor, but something in her mind was telling her take it. Opening her duffel, she carefully set the tusk inside. The bag was nearly full, and she had taken enough plates to offer an acceptable level of protection, but there was still one thing she wanted to investigate while she was still in the forest.

Several minutes later, Aspen was standing on the edge of the cliff where she had found the oddly shaped stone—a "Queen" from some game called "Chess." Reaching out, she searched for the presence she had felt the day before. She could feel the two auras following her, several small animals crawling through the underbrush and, if she pushed herself as hard as she could, the very edges of Laurel's scorched-powder aura back at the cliff. None of it was what she was looking for. It seemed as if whatever she had felt before was—

 _There._ There it was. The feeling of blood rose up to meet her, not as sudden or as powerful as the last time, but undoubtedly the same. Leaning forward, she peered down into the chasm at her feet. A layer of fog kept her from seeing to the bottom but, several hundred feet below her, a collapsed pillar leaned against the cliff face.

At least she wouldn't have to climb all the way back up.

(- -)

"What do you think she's doing?"

Emerald scoffed lightly. "How would I know? She's been ripping plates off of Grimm for the last three hours. Until yesterday, I didn't even know that was possible."

Next to her, Mercury lazily scratched at his chin. From their position near the back of the ruins, they had a perfect view of the girl standing at the edge of the cliff. "You don't think she knows we're here, do you?"

"Why would she? We haven't even been within—"

Emerald stopped mid-sentence as a sudden feeling of dread washed over her. It slipped and oozed at the corner of her mind, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. The whole world seemed to freeze, leaving her unable to move. Judging by the way Mercury had stiffened, she could only assume he'd felt it too.

The feeling vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Emerald couldn't stop the violent shiver that ran through her body. "What… the hell… was that?" Mercury didn't move, his muscles clenched as he stared out toward the cliff. Aspen was gone; Emerald hadn't even seen her jump. At least, she _assumed_ she'd jumped. "We're not… we're not going to go after her, are we?"

In any other situation, the green-haired thief doubted her partner would have even given a second thought to following the girl, but now he just stared at the duffel bag sitting on the edge of nothingness. "Well… She's got to come back for her stuff eventually, right?"

Emerald breathed a small sigh of relief. "Yeah. We can follow her when she comes back up."

(- -)

The bottom of the chasm was much colder than the surface, but the change in temperature didn't bother Aspen at all. Dropping off the fallen column, she took a look at her surroundings. The fog above her blocked out much of the light, but she could still make out more rubble from whatever structure had once stood there. What must have been centuries of erosion had caused numerous landslides, causing huge piles of dirt and stone to collect at the base of the cliff. All in all, nothing registered as out of the ordinary in her brain, though she wasn't sure what would qualify as—

The girl's eyes settled on a massive boulder that had come from the structure she'd climbed down on. Behind it, she could make out an angular indentation in the wall. _That_ was unusual. Walking over to the rubble, she looked it over more carefully. There were several other large stones of varying sizes surrounding it, but she was able to move them aside with relative ease. Moving the main boulder, however, proved to be more difficult.

The ground cracked beneath Aspen's feet as she pushed on the stone's mossy face. She ground her teeth, pushing even harder. The boulder began to give. With a yell, she threw all of her strength into moving her obstacle and it slid aside. It didn't go far, but it was enough to reveal what it had been hiding.

A wide tunnel opened up into the base of the cliff. The edges were worn down and loose dirt and stones covered the ground, but it was clearly artificial. How did she know that? _Straight lines. Sharp edges. Stairs._ Slipping through the narrow entrance she had created, Aspen continued her descent.

It wasn't long until the sparse light from the surface wasn't enough to light her way, so the girl had to rely on her other senses to move forward. A light current of air brushed against her skin, leading her further into the tunnel. At some point, the stair steps levelled out into a smooth floor, and still she continued. Up ahead, she caught sight of a faint glow that outlined the exit to the shaft and allowed her to move more confidently.

The room Aspen found herself in was both alien and familiar at the same time. The ceiling was over a hundred feet high, with small, glowing white orbs hanging down, offering the only light. Spaced evenly throughout the room as far as she could see were large metal cylinders, around ten feet tall. Each one had a large, transparent panel that had been opened upward, revealing them to be hollow.

Aspen walked through the room, examining the cylinders— _ **Pods.**_ _I've been here._ Aspen frowned. She couldn't have been here before. She couldn't remember anything before the desert, but she was _certain_ she had never been in this room before. _Why is it so familiar, then?_

A flicker of movement to her right caught her attention, and she turned to face it. Nothing. She couldn't sense any auras either, but she knew she wasn't alone. _Grimm?_ It was possible. She readied herself to fight. Once the Grimm noticed her, it would growl at her. That was what they always did.

Something crashed into Aspen from behind, sending her sprawling onto the floor. She didn't have time to react before whatever had attacked her picked her up and threw her against a nearby pod, denting it. She collapsed to the ground, unable to recover as she was lifted up by the throat. In her vulnerable position, she was finally able to see her attacker clearly.

It was a man with pale skin, black hair, and red eyes. Red eyes that looked at her in recognition. He released her and took a step back.

" _You… You are rephaim._ "

* * *

 **Rephaim, huh? What exactly does that mean? Well, I'm not telling just yet. You'll have to come back for the next chapter to get that answer (though I wouldn't be surprised if some of you have figured it out already).**

 **I'm pretty happy with what I was able to do with this chapter. Fleshing out new characters is always fun, and we get to see a side of Oliver we haven't really seen before. Meanwhile, Aspen is off being Aspen, casually torturing Grimm so she can have some armor and jumping off cliffs. Nothing new there, but always fun to write.**

 **Just a heads up before I go, the next couple of chapters may be a bit shorter and choppier than usual. I've got a bunch of different threads to address in this arc and I don't want to drag anything out more than it needs to be. I'm also getting toward the end of my other story, Wayward Son, and once that's done, I'll be able to focus more on this story.**

 **So, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I would recommend following the story so you don't miss the next one. If you want to leave a review, I love getting feedback, but no pressure. Au revoir!**


	10. Chapter 10

_Rephaim._

Yes, that was what Aspen was: not human, but _rephaim_ , like the man in front of her _._ The word filled her with a sense of power, of identity. She finally knew what she was, even if she didn't fully comprehend what it meant yet.

The two carefully studied one another, each sizing the other up. She could not feel his aura, so she had to rely on her vision. Because of his nakedness, Aspen could see that, at one time, he'd had an athletic build, though his muscles had… _**atrophied**_ since then. He was at least a half foot taller than her, and the three silver streaks in his long, messy black hair showed that he was older than her, though she wasn't sure by how much. He looked at least older than Oliver. _Of course._ Aspen's focus faltered at the errant thought. _Yes, but… why 'of course?'_

" _You felt my call,_ " the man said, his voice coming out in a dry rasp. Something in the sound felt foreign to her ears, but was still comfortingly familiar. " _What is your name?_ "

She answered immediately. "Et vay Aspen Gray." _I am Aspen Gray._ The language they were speaking was not the same as the one she had heard and spoken since Laurel and Oliver had found her, but she knew by instinct that it was her own.

The man's eyes narrowed disapprovingly. " _That is not the name of a rephaite._ "

" _It is my name._ "

" _As you say._ " He straightened, spacing his feet out and keeping his arms ready at his sides. " _I am Deirean._ " The name held the vaguest hint of familiarity, and his stance was one that spoke to a well-buried part of Aspen's mind. " _You are young, but your armor is not that of a warrior. Do you walk your own path?_ "

The girl looked down at herself. Was she a warrior? The other hunter-students fought each other in the colosseum, but that was hardly war. Were they at war with the Grimm? They didn't seem to be organized in any unified way, so it couldn't be much of a war. Hunting was much more appropriate " _I am to be a Huntress,_ " she replied, looking back up.

A harsh sound emanated from Deirean's throat, made worse by the rasp that afflicted him. " _There is a nobility in the hunt, one which our kind has long been denied. Tell me, where did you enter from?_ "

The girl turned and pointed back the way she had come. " _A tunnel in that wall._ "

" _Show me._ " Aspen nodded once and began leading him out.

As they passed the rows of pods, the girl struggled to discern why they felt so familiar to her. _**Birth.**_ No, birth was violent, messy, personal. These were cold and sterile. What came after birth? The word was just beyond the edge of her conscious mind, out of her reach, and it aggravated her.

" _This is where I entered,_ " Aspen said as they arrived at the tunnel's mouth.

Deirean flared his nostrils and walked through the opening. " _I know this path. When last I checked, the entrance had been blocked by stones and dirt._ " Despite the darkness, the man's strides were purposeful, showing a knowledge of and familiarity with the structure's layout. Aspen followed him but, in the low visibility, she did not have the same confidence in her step. Next to him, she felt like a child stumbling in the dark.

 _That seems an apt comparison._ She frowned. No, it wasn't right. _And yet…_

The slope of the floor changed, and soon they were ascending up the stairs toward the surface. There was a glimpse of light in the distance, but it wasn't until the pair neared the end of the tunnel that it offered any illumination whatsoever. Through her boots, Aspen could feel the loose dirt and stones that covered the steps, occasionally forcing her to shift her weight lest she lose her balance. Deirean seemed unaffected by the debris, treading over it with bare feet as though the stairs had been swept clean.

After what felt like mere seconds, they were at the surface. Deirean slipped through the gap Aspen had created and out into the open air. Closing his eyes, he took in a breath of the cold damp air before turning toward the large boulders and collapsed structures with a scowl. " _How long has it been?_ " he asked, running a hand over the surface of the stone that had once blocked the tunnel.

Aspen looked at the boulder as well, as if she it would help her discern the man's meaning. " _I do not understand._ "

Deirean shuddered as he released his breath. " _If you do not know, then it is beyond your lifetime and that is my answer._ " His hand dropped and he looked at her. " _How did you intend to return to the surface?_ "

" _By the same path I came down,_ " she answered, walking past him toward the collapsed pillar. As she neared it, she pressed down on one leg and leapt upward to land atop the fallen stone. The man flared his nostrils again—a sign of approval—and followed her lead. Despite his emaciated state, he was still able to make the jump with ease. " _This leads further up the cliff, though we will have to climb it to reach the top._ "

" _Very well. It is not the first time I have had to scale these cliffs._ "

As Aspen led the way up the precarious and broken path, she recalled her own climb back up to Laurel and Oliver after her test the day before. She hadn't fallen, though there had been moments where her grip had faltered. If they were fortunate, there would be no such issues this time around.

Several minutes later, Aspen crested the top of the cliff, hoisting herself up onto the grass. She stood and began brushing dirt off of her armor before turning her attention to her duffel, still lying where she'd dropped it. A quick check confirmed that all her prizes were still inside, and she turned back to the cliff just as Deirean pulled himself up. His pale skin was now marred by numerous black lines, particularly on his hands and feet. With the full light of the sun, Aspen could see that his body was covered in ashen gray scars, far more numerous than the few nicks and scratches he'd collected during his ascent.

Deirean did not seem to be bothered by the dirt that had begun to cake his skin. Instead, he scanned the ruins, jaw clenched. Eventually, he stopped on a particularly shadowy part of the forest beyond the stone structures and pointed toward it. " _There are two havneel hiding in the trees there. Do you feel them?_ "

 _havneel._ Aspen knew what the word referred to, yet it did not feel correct in her mind. " _They call themselves 'humans,' "_ she stated flatly. " _Those two followed me as I hunted._ "

Deirean turned toward her with a snarl. " _And you are to be a Huntress?_ "

Aspen remained neutral, unaffected by his rage. " _I was not here for them,_ " she answered, lifting her duffel onto one shoulder to emphasize her point, " _and they did not interfere with my hunt._ "

The man continued to eye her with anger before turning back to the trees. " _I suppose there is no honor if they come to you._ " He began walking forward, but as Aspen made to follow him, he held up a hand to stop her. " _No. You have my thanks for freeing me, but…_ " He slowly turned his head to examine the surrounding forest." _…I must meditate. I will find you if you are needed._ "

 _Needed for what?_ Aspen nodded. " _As you say._ " Without another word, Deirean resumed moving toward the opposite side of the ruins from the two humans. Aspen adjusted the strap onto her shoulder and began making her way back toward Laurel. She had gotten everything she needed from her hunt—with the added bonus of finding another of her kind—but she still had another cliff to climb.

(-)

Ilex grunted as the top of Mantis's gun smacked him in the forehead, and he stumbled backward for what felt like the thousandth time. He looked up as Carmine attempted to come down on the man using his weapon as a hammer, only to receive a similar treatment to the faunus's, albeit with both hand cannons.

 _What the hell is this guy's deal?_ Ilex didn't need to look at his scroll to know his Aura was getting low again. _Maybe he was doing some evaluation thing before, but he's just screwing with us now!_ It had started off simple enough, fighting him and Carmine one-on-one until their Auras dipped to the half-way point—his and Carmines, that was. They'd barely scratched the Huntsman before he decided to give them a short break to recover.

The real dickery began when they'd started up again. Mantis finally gave Rhys a chance to fight, but stopped it after only a minute. The battle-happy faunus had been rather irate and tried to keep fighting but, when he attacked again, the Huntsman took him down so hard even Carmine cringed. Then, after sending Rhys limping back to the sideline, Mantis had apparently thought it funny to challenge the other two to steal his hat.

Flicking the blade from his right vambrace, Ilex took a step and dove toward the Hunter. The man dodged easily, but the faunus was expecting it this time. He dipped downward into a roll while aiming his other arm toward his opponent's ankles. A thin wire shot out, the small hook on the end seeking out Mantis's boot so the teen could pull him off balance. He'd managed it once during his one-on-one using a different approach, so he hoped he could at least pull it off again.

Fortune was not in Ilex's favor, however, as the man simply lifted his foot out of the way of the wire. Rolling to a crouched position, the faunus triggered the mechanism to reel the line back in, but the man brought his foot back down on to pin it to the floor. The sudden change in tension caused Ilex to jerk forward before the miniaturized motor could stall, giving Mantis the opportunity to pivot and kick at his head. In a brief moment of pride, the teen managed to bring his other hand up to catch the blow, but his defense quickly crumbled as a flash of light blinded him and the Huntsman kicked again, catching him under the chin.

As the black spots faded from his vision, Ilex saw Carmine on the attack again. He had changed his weapon's form to one the faunus knew to be a favorite of his partner's: a saber in his left hand and a tonfa in the right, with the excess length of the weapon connecting them as a sort of semi-flexible chain. The teen stabbed forward, toward Mantis's head. The man slipped easily to the side, even able to avoid Carmine's secondary motion: a flick upward with the tip of the sword intended to remove the leather hat from his head.

The Hunter retaliated, swinging one of his hand cannons toward Carmine's chest. The weapon clattered against Carmine's as the younger combatant brought his tonfa up to protect himself before he spun into a crouch, aiming both parts of his weapon toward Mantis's knees. Skipping back out of the saber's range, the man dropped into a roll as Carmine stood, coming up within his reach. At some point during the maneuver, he must have holstered one of his guns because his fist was empty as it connected with the human teen's jaw.

There was an audible clicking sound as Carmine's mouth was forced shut by the uppercut, replaced by a grunt from Mantis as he spun around and flipped his opponent over his shoulder. Seeing an opportunity, Ilex rushed forward as his partner was hitting the ground, only to come to a jerking halt as the barrel of the Huntsman's gun was pressed into his throat. The faunus swallowed, the pressure from the weapon causing some discomfort.

The man gave him a hard stare for several seconds before relaxing himself. With a sigh, he pulled the gun away with a twirl and stood up from where he had Carmine. "I think that about decides it," he said lazily, holstering his weapon.

"Decides what?" Ilex asked, rubbing his throat as his partner picked himself up and holstered his weapon. Having apparently worked out that the session was done, Rhys ran over to the group, showing no signs of the limp he'd had not that long ago. _Resilient little runt._

Mantis didn't answer immediately, pulling out his scroll and writing down several notes that Ilex couldn't make out through the screen. "None of you," he started, tapping through several confirmation boxes, "are fit to be the leader of your team."

The silence in the room fell like an anvil, the news coming as a surprise to each of the teens. _Wait… That was what this was all about? All the… poking and pushing our buttons?_ Ilex blinked, ignoring the angry signs of complaints Rhys was directing at the man. "Wait, if it's not—" Cutting himself off, he reached out to slap at the otter faunus's still-moving hands. "Hey shut up! I'm talking!" With a scowl, Rhys crossed his arms. "If it's not one of us, then who is it?"

Mantis stared at him in bewilderment before saying, "Aspen," as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Ilex let out a short, breathy laugh. "No, that's… That's a joke, right?"

The Hunter bristled. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he asked, hand drifting toward one of his holstered weapons.

"Not really," the faunus said, eyeing the motion as he put his hands up defensively. "Look, I'm sure she's a decent fighter—I've gotten my ass kicked by plenty of girls—but she can't lead a team of three guys. That's just not going to work."

Ilex was sure Mantis would have shot him then and there if Carmine—of all people—hadn't spoken up. "As much as I hate to admit it, I have to agree with the faunus on this one." To his credit, Carmine didn't so much as flinch when Mantis turned his glare on him, weapon half-drawn. "Different reasons, though." The teen did wait for a nod of approval from the Hunter before continuing, however. "Like he said, she seems like a good fighter. I saw what she was able to do to Team RWBY before they blacked out the arena, but that hardly makes her qualified. She doesn't seem to have an interest in getting to know any of us or even a basic grasp of social interaction, for that matter. Can't help but feel like you might be playing favorites."

Much to his chagrin, Ilex found himself actually agreeing with his partner. Despite his best efforts, Aspen had barely spoken to him, and at least half of that had been asking him to _stop_ talking because it was "distracting."

Venting his frustration through a sigh, Mantis pushed his gun back into its holster. "I wasn't the one who made the decision," he informed them. "I'm just a second opinion. As far as Aspen goes," he continued, addressing Carmine specifically, "just give her some time. It's only been a day." Finally, he turned to Rhys, who was still bouncing around on the balls of his feet. "Anything you'd like to add?"

The twitchy faunus froze for a moment before quickly uncrossing his arms and flashing a few signs, a frown on his face. Ilex gave him a look of disbelief before shaking his head and translating. "He says he doesn't care; he just wanted a chance."

Mantis cocked his head and knelt down a bit as if chastising a small child. "You did get a chance. Next time, try doing what I tell you to do without throwing a fit." The faunus scowled at him and recrossed his arms. Straightening up, the man looked at Ilex and Carmine, whose lips were curled up into a faint smile. "As for you two, you're both decent fighters on your own, but you need to learn how to fight together." The smile fell away from Carmine's face.

"What are you talking about?" Ilex asked, feeling much the same as he assumed his partner was. "We just fought together for, like, fifteen minutes."

"There's a difference between fighting together and fighting at the same time." Mantis deadpanned. "You'd best hope you work out your differences sooner rather than later." Slipping the scroll back into a pocket, he began to turn away. "We're done for now. Tawny or I will let you know what you'll be doing next." Ilex scowled at Mantis as he walked away. He did _not_ like that man.

(-)

"What do you mean 'another one?' "

Mercury casually leaned forward in his seat, watching the fight between two girls from Atlas and two boys from Beacon. Calling it a fight seemed pretty generous to the team from Beacon, however, as the one orange-haired girl—Penny, if he recalled—was completely dominating the match. "We followed Aspen like you told us to," Mercury said, keeping his voice low despite the noise of the crowd. "She spent a few hours ripping plates off of Grimm, then went out to that cliff in the middle of the forest and jumped off." The teen shifted as he remembered the feeling of absolute terror and dread he had felt at the time. "When she came back up, there was a man with her. We were kind of far away, but he looked like he could have been her father. Red eyes, black hair: the whole package."

Beside him, Cinder hummed thoughtfully, keeping her eyes on the arena as the Atlas girl crushed her two opponents beneath a pair of boulders. "You said he looked older than her?" Mercury nodded. She thought for a few more moments. "Don't worry about Aspen for now. Everything will still work out as planned." Cinder stood and nodded toward the arena. "In the meantime, I believe you and Emerald are on next."

* * *

 **So** _…_ **Been a while, hasn't it?**

 **Sorry about that. I got a little caught up finishing** _ **Wayward Son**_ **and, as soon as that was done, work got super busy. With luck, updates here will pick up now that I'm only actively writing one story, though I can't really promise much since I'm going back to college in a few weeks. You win some and you lose some.**

 **Speaking of winning and losing, something occurred to me about the Vytal Tournament schedule. Clearly the match-ups are supposed to be random (Professor Port says as much in Episode 3), but everyone still seems to know when the fights are going to be. Obviously, the "randomization process" actually spits out the entire lineup and then people know when they're scheduled to fight, but the way it's presented makes it seem like the fighters are picked** _ **right**_ **before their match with no notice. Pretty inconsequential in the long run, but it did cross my mind becaaaauuuse…**

… **as you'll notice, I mixed the schedule up a bit myself. It actually wasn't until I got to the last scene here that I realized Mercury and Emerald probably should have had their match during the time they were out following Aspen. So, I worked a little jiggery, pulled Penny's match in a day early, and pushed their match back a little bit. Again, not really that important, but I do enjoy playing with all the ripples that come from Aspen's involvement with canon.**

 **Of course, I don't think I could get away with posting this chapter without addressing Aspen herself. If it wasn't obvious, the rephaim are a separate species from humans and faunus. Just what that means for the future is something I'm not quite ready to comment on, but I will bring up the matter of language. In order for this story to work, Aspen needed to be able to speak English—or whatever they speak on Remnant—but as she realized here, that's not her native language. The only way around that is for her to somehow learn it, and doing that the normal way would have been boring. Instead, she can learn languages from just a small amount of interaction with them—hence her also knowing sign language and occasionally fixating on a single word.**

 **Hopefully, I didn't pull back too much of the curtain there; I could go on for a while with all the details. That's all for this update, so I'll leave the door open now for you to follow or review or whatever you like. Until next time (Which, hopefully, won't be too long!), au revoir!**


	11. Chapter 11

"God, that guy's such an asshole!"

The sound of cellos filled Carmine's ears, guiding him as he worked on his weapon. He typed a short command into his scroll and the small bundle of rods in his hand shifted into a smoother and easier to grip handle. When he let it go, in split in two, with one half snapped upward to form a right angle with its twin.

"Seriously! Where does he get off treating us like that?"

Despite how it might've seemed to his partner—and Carmine did use that term in the loosest sense possible—programming his weapon was not easy. Not only did he have to find the proper shape, he had to sequence the transformation to be as smooth as possible. He'd come close to cutting his fingers off more times than he could count.

"I mean, I get that he's technically supposed to be teaching us, but there's no way his methods can be sanctioned."

A piano joined the cellos, forming a soothing harmony as Carmine carefully maneuvered one of the rods out of the angled section. After a few taps on his scroll, the selected shaft segmented, allowing him to further manipulate it into a roughly triangular shape near the intersection of the handle's two halves. Another command into his scroll caused the shape to shift again, creating a hatchet-like axe head.

"C'mon, Embry. Even you have to agree with me on—"

Carmine spun the weapon, finding a grip on it only to slam the keen edge into his workbench in frustration. Taking off his headphones, he turned in his chair to face the irritating presence in the room. "No, Ilex, I really don't." The faunus had been complaining about their new mentor on and off for the last hour and a half, and Carmine was sick of it. "I'm fairly confident the Headmaster—or Professor Goodwitch, or whoever the hell hired him—knew what they were doing when they brought him on. He's _intentionally_ pushing our buttons, and that's what they want him to do."

Ilex stared over at him from his bed, his laid back position contrasting with the tone he'd been speaking with. "How in the hell is that supposed to work?" he asked, crossing his arms.

On the other side of the room, Rhys had stopped playing with Aspen's Beowolf mask and was actually paying attention to the conversation. _Great._ As much as he wanted to tell Ilex off, dealing with both faunus wasn't something Carmine wanted to do. He flared his nostrils. " For once, just trust that my experience outweighs yours," he said, less-than-pleasant memories rising up to the surface.

Unsurprisingly, however, Ilex looked at him with suspicion. "You know what? I don't think I will," he said, swinging his legs off the side of his bed and standing up, " 'cause to be honest, I can't help thinking you're only taking his side because I'm a faunus."

Carmine almost laughed at that. The thought had certainly entered his mind, but he wasn't so biased as to blindly take sides on something so trivial because of race. He stood up to match his partner's more aggressive stance. "If anything, I'm taking his side because you're a self-absorbed rich kid who could use a lesson in humility."

Ilex took a half-step forward, a fire in his eyes that Carmine had rarely seen. "I am _not_ —"

The door to the room suddenly burst open, Aspen coming in with it. She stood in the doorway, one hand still on the handle, looking as if she had just crawled through a mile of gravel. Dust and wear marks covered the set of black leather armor she wore, small bits of stone caught in some of the deeper crevasses. Over one shoulder she carried a dark red duffel bag which, by the looks of it, was filled with something heavy. What caused Carmine to want to take a step back, however, was the look on her face. Her eyes were opened wide, yet her pupils were massively dilated to a point that didn't seem physically possible. Her upper lip was curled back, revealing her teeth as she ground them together, and the mess of hair hanging down over her face only served to accentuate her maniacal visage.

The four teens stood motionless for several seconds, Aspen's eyes flicking between Ilex and Carmine as they tried to figure out what was going on. "Uh… Hey, Aspen," the lemur faunus finally said, shifting from the aggressive stance he'd had with his partner to one that was more defensive. "Are you, uh, alright?"

Aspen's eyes locked onto him before flicking back over the others a few more times. Eventually, she shut her eyes and dipped her head, though the muscles in her neck only tensed up further. The doorknob began to groan in protest as she squeezed it tighter, and Carmine briefly wondered if she actually had the strength to crush it with her bare hand. Her grip slackened, however, as she exhaled, the air hissing as she forced it through her teeth.

When she reopened her eyes, her pupils had returned to their normal size, and Carmine was surprised to find himself relieved. Aspen released the door handle and walked over to her bed, ignoring Ilex's question. Swinging the bag off her shoulder, she dropped it onto the mattress and immediately began removing her armor. Rhys sprang off his bed and, looking curiously at the duffel, signed a quick question. | _What's in the bag?_ |

Aspen paused, already in the middle of removing her gloves—they were more like gauntlets, really. Lifting one hand, she hesitated again before spelling out the word: | _A-R-M-O-R._ |

Before Carmine could point out that she was already wearing armor, Rhys was unzipping the bag. _What did I expect? Runt has no sense of—_ His thoughts ground to a halt as the faunus flipped the canvas cover off the top to reveal the duffel's contents. It was a few seconds before he could even begin putting the pieces together. "You're going to make armor out of Grimm plates?" he asked as Rhys pulled out a Nevermore mask.

"Yes."

"I take it this is what you were doing this morning?" Ilex asked, stepping up next to her. He reached into the bag and removed a tusk that surely could have only come from a very large Boarbatusk.

Once again ignoring Ilex's question, Aspen immediately grabbed the tusk away from the faunus, setting it on the opposite side of the duffel bag. The white-haired teen's mouth briefly hung open as he no doubt considered the hypocrisy of Aspen allowing Rhys to take the Nevermore mask—who was now actually holding it up to his own face—but he quickly closed it.

Unfortunately, in Carmine's opinion, he didn't keep it closed long enough. "You know, we haven't really gotten a whole lot of time to get to know each other. Maybe we could go out to the colosseum later, catch a few fights?"

Aspen's response, was blunt, harsh, and immediate. "No."

"Okay, then how about we just go to the fairgrounds?"

"No," Aspen repeated, removing the jacket-like armor from her torso. Even from where he stood near the door, Carmine could practically feel the heat that had been trapped between the dark leather and her body, and was surprised to see that she somehow didn't appear to have worked up a sweat. "I need to work on the armor."

Ilex wasn't giving up, though. "C'mon, you can do that later. Let's just relax for the rest of the day."

Aspen didn't even look at him as she shut him down again. "Laurel is finding me somewhere to work. I'm starting once she does."

For as much as he enjoyed watching his partner try and fail to flirt with the girl, Carmine had other things to work on. Closing the door, he returned to his workbench to finish working on his weapon. When he returned the headphones to his ears, the sound of a piano greeted him. Turning the music down a notch in order to monitor the conversation in the room, he focused his attention on completing the weapon design.

"Hey, did they tell you that they're going to make you the leader of our team?"

Pulling the split hatchet out of the wood, Carmine folded the two halves back together into the weapon's proper form. A quick command on his scroll caused the rods to lock in place, and he gave it a quick look-over to make sure it looked how he wanted it to.

"I don't think I understand. Where exactly am I leading us?"

"What? You're not… You're in charge of us. When we're in a fight, you tell us what to do. Though if that's not something you want to do, I'm sure…"

After adjusting a few settings, Carmine tapped a button on his scroll and the hatchet section of rods reset to a single shaft in his hand. _Now to see if it actually works._ He executed the code he'd been working on, and the rods moved and shifted, forming the small axe exactly how he'd programmed it. _Halfway there._

" _Vronon._ "

The word caught Carmine's attention: not because he knew what it meant, but because he _didn't_. Most people in the Kingdoms spoke the same language, though there were a few offshoot dialects on the fringes. He was familiar with most of them, though, and they were all very similar regardless. Whatever she had just said was _not_ based in the same language.

" ' _Vronon?_ ' " Ilex repeated curiously, apparently oblivious to the peculiar nature of the word. "That sounds nice. What does that mean?"

Aspen hesitated for a moment, as if she didn't actually know. _Come to think of it, she did sound like she pulled that word out of nowhere._

"Commander. I'm to be your commander?"

Ilex put up his hands. "Woah, let's not get ahead of ourselves." Rhys, however, grinned and snapped a sloppy salute, much to the other faunus's chagrin. "C'mon, Rhys. We barely even know her!"

"Doesn't seem to be stopping you," Carmine said, relishing in his partner's flustered look as he turned back to his workbench. Despite the barb, though, he did have to agree with Ilex to some degree. She hadn't spent nearly enough time with them to inspire confidence or loyalty, and the fact that she was still refusing to interact with them didn't help matters.

"Tomorrow then."

Carmine paused at Aspen's words. _Is she actually…?_

"If you think it will be… helpful, we will go to the fairgrounds tomorrow."

The red-haired teen sighed to himself. There were worse ways to spend a day, though not many.

(-)

Oliver stared at the four faces on his scroll, idly drumming his fingers on his desk. The rooms he and Laurel had been given were small—combined still smaller than his apartment back in Vacuo—with only a desk, a chair, and a bed in the way of actual furniture. They each had a bathroom, a kitchenette, and a small closet, though not much else. In fact, it felt like little more than a hotel room. _Not even a proper computer._ He glanced out the window toward the CCT tower. _At least the view isn't half-bad._

There was a knock on the door, a familiar three-strike rhythm that refocused Oliver's attention. "Yeah!" he called out, inviting his partner into the room. Sure enough, the door opened, Laurel walked in, and she promptly kicked off her shoes. She looked disheveled, lacking her poncho and with her hair down instead of her usual short ponytail. Without even a greeting, she made her way to his bed and threw herself face-first onto it. "So, how was your day?" Oliver asked sarcastically. The woman said something in reply, though, with her face in his bedspread, it was hard to tell if it had been actual words. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Laurel rolled herself just high enough onto her side to speak clearly. "Can I get, like, five minutes of sleep before you start talking?"

Oliver smirked. "You're the one who came into _my_ room," he pointed out. She let out an annoyed whine in response, and his smile widened. He gave her her silence, though, choosing to re-review the files on Aspen's teammates.

After a few minutes, the orange-haired woman rolled over onto her back. "She woke me up at three," she groaned. " _Three._ I don't think she even slept." Oliver nodded in understanding; she'd already told him everything that morning, before she'd gone back out to the Emerald Forest so Aspen could get "armor."

"How many did she kill?" he asked.

Laurel sighed. "I don't know. I stopped counting after she pulled a Nevermore out of a tree and accidentally ripped its head off."

" 'Accidentally'?"

Orange eyes lazily turned to look at him. "I'm pretty sure she was trying to take its face plate off." Oliver grimaced at the image. He hadn't even known that it was possible to take a Grimm's face mask off prior to the day before, but now to think that Aspen was intentionally ripping them off? It was brutal, even for a Hunter.

"That's not all." The man raised an eyebrow, waiting for his partner to continue. Sitting up, Laurel moved so her back was resting against the wall. "Do you remember that gorge out in the middle of the forest? The one where she got her chess piece?"

"Did she go down there?" Oliver ventured, getting a nod in response. "Well, she came back up, right?" Another nod. "Then what's the problem?"

"She didn't come back alone."

A chill ran up the Huntsman's spine at the thought. Straightening in his chair, he set his scroll on his desk as Laurel continued. "There was a man with her. Pale skin, black hair, red eyes, late-fifties… He looked like he could have been her father."

"All the way out here in Vale?"

"I had the same thought, except he just left her there after they came back out. Oh, and _he_ was naked, too."

The air in Oliver's lungs escaped in a drawn-out, throaty sigh as he rubbed at his temple and forehead. "What is going on in my life?" he muttered. Leaning back in his chair again, he asked. "Did she say anything to you about it?"

Laurel shook her head. "I asked her if she had anything she wanted to tell me, and all she said was that she needed somewhere to work on her armor."

"Alright," Oliver drawled, staring up at the ceiling. _Why didn't she tell Laurel about it?_ It was possible Aspen simply hadn't understood what the woman had been asking, or had taken it literally. _I wouldn't put it past her._ "Have you written your report for today, yet?" he asked his partner.

"Yeah. Haven't submitted it yet, though."

"Okay. Maybe leave that part out for now."

"Well, if I don't put it in today's, it's not like I can do it some other time."

Oliver winced at her correction. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I just have a… weird feeling about this."

"If you say so," Laurel relented, adjusting herself so she was laying down again. "How was _your_ day?"

Oliver huffed, accepting the change of subject as he slid his scroll back off his desk. "Well, it certainly wasn't as strange as yours, though I can't really say it was any better." Feeling restless, he stood and began to walk around the room. "They really are about as charming as their dossiers would make you think. I channeled my inner Reddich and jerked them around a little bit, just to see what it would take to get them going." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Laurel smiling at the reference to their former combat instructor. He leaned against the wall serving as the boundary between the bathroom and the rest of the room. "It was _not_ much. I mean, Rhys…" Opening up the file on the youngest member of the team, he flicked through the small amount of information available digitally. "I'm pretty sure the file actually _understated_ just how much he loves to fight."

"Let me guess: You made him sit on the side and didn't do anything when he did try to fight?"

"Yep, and he threw a fit. Almost had to knock him out at one point."

Laurel paused at that. "I don't remember Reddich ever doing that to anyone."

"No, but there were rumors," Oliver countered. His partner conceded the point with a shrug, and he turned back to his scroll. "The other faunus, Ilex, is a narcissistic womanizer who apparently fancied himself to be the next leader of their team."

"Who _did_ you choose?" Laurel asked, cutting him off.

"… Aspen."

The woman sat up. "Seriously?! None of them were a better choice?"

Pushing himself away from the wall, Oliver gestured toward his scroll. "Carmine, maybe, but he can't even get around the fact that his partner is a faunus long enough to give a decent weapon demonstration." He shook his head as he set the device back on his desk and sat on one corner of the mattress. Feeling Laurel shift to make some room for him, he laid back across the foot of the bed, arms settling behind his head for support. "You know, they do kind of remind me of us a little bit."

Laurel's feet settled atop his chest, though he didn't particularly mind. "Us?"

"Y'know, GLOE."

"Oh. Well, how's that?"

"For starters, Rhys has a lot of the same energy that Gray did, even if he directs it differently." Oliver pulled one hand from behind his head, gesturing toward the ceiling as he spoke. "Carmine has that analytical intelligence Ej does that's _really_ off-putting when you first meet him, and Ilex has my good looks and charm. Well, the good looks, at least."

Laurel lifted one of her heels and playfully dropped it back on his chest. "I'd argue for bo—Wait, are you saying Aspen is me?"

The man chuckled. "Oh, of course. Cold, aloof, doesn't quite understand the subtleties of language…"

Both feet came off his chest, the kicks turning more forceful as Laurel attempted to force him off the end of the mattress. "Jackass!"

Oliver laughed, putting one of his hands on the floor to stop himself from falling. "Don't forget whose bed you're on!" The assault paused for a moment before Laurel pulled away, allowing her partner to roll back up onto the bed. As soon as he had repositioned, though, she slipped her feet under his back. They were cold, meaning she was either using her Semblance to actively pull heat away from him, or she was just too tired to use it to pull heat from the air.

A strange sensation washed over Oliver. A few years ago, it wouldn't have been unusual for a situation such as this one to occur, but now, after everything that had happened between them, it felt odd. It wasn't as though it were unpleasant, however. Far from it; he'd admittedly missed the intimate contact with his partner. Perhaps he just hadn't expected her to seek it out first.

"Do you… ever think about us?" Laurel suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the last several minutes.

Oliver blinked several times. _GLOE? Or you and I together?_ "What do you mean, 'us'?"

"You and me." Her feet shifted under his back, burrowing deeper into the folds of his comforter. "Five years ago, did you think we'd still be together?"

"Uh… 'together'?"

Laurel growled in frustration. "You know what I mean."

"I really don't." Oliver lifted himself up on one elbow to look at his partner. She'd brought her arms up to cover her eyes, but he could still see the reddish tint to her face. Whether the blush was caused by the actual question or from the misinterpretation, he couldn't be sure. "I don't want to overstep any boundaries between us by taking it the wrong way."

Biting her lower lip, the woman's face began to return to its normal hue. With a sigh, she said, "Partners."

Oliver laid back down, still not sure if he understood her original question. "Well, five years ago I probably figured that if we ever broke up, that would be the end of it. I guess if you're asking if I would have thought that we'd still be partners and not dating, the answer would be no." In hindsight, the context of the question hadn't really mattered. As they lay there, he felt Laurel's feet warm to their normal temperature, and found himself strangely disappointed.

After another few minutes of silence, the man sat up. "We should probably get working on those reports." He turned toward his partner only to find she had fallen asleep. Reaching over, he gently nudged her shoulder. "Tawny?" She barely reacted, only shifting enough to turn away from him. "Hey, get up," he said, a bit more forcefully. "You're not sleeping in here tonight."

When she didn't stir, he decided it would probably be better just to let her sleep. Standing up, the man walked around to the other side of the bed. Laurel's room was just across the hall, and it was late enough that the odds of anyone seeing them was low, so he bent over and lifted her up into his arms. She was heavier than her frame would suggest, but he'd long since come to expect it.

As he carried her out into the hall, she began to stir and he paused. Things could get awkward quickly if she woke up, but instead she tucked her head further up under his chin. Oliver felt the heat from her forehead spread up from his neck into his face. _Gah. Fantastic._

Pursing his lips, the Hunter managed to open the door to his partner's room and slipped into the darkness. He moved off memory and the light from the hall to walk over to Laurel's bed and gently lay her down. Taking a moment to ensure she would be comfortable, he turned and walked back to the door.

"You didn't have to do that."

Oliver turned back to look at the woman. She had propped herself up on her elbows, looking up at him. _Great. When did she wake up?_ "You need your sleep," he said, dismissing the anxiety creeping into his mind. "I'll take care of your report."

It was a moment before Laurel lay back down. "Thanks."

Oliver hummed his acknowledgement and closed the door behind him. _Why does everything have to be so complicated?_

(-)

Small animals chirping and chattering in the brush. Wind rustling the leaves and rattling the branches in the trees above him. Water burbling in a brook he had drunk from several dozen yards away.

The comfortable chill of the evening air on his bare skin. The grit of the grass and dirt beneath his feet and arms. The _press_ of _innumerable_ havneel, far more clustered together than he had ever felt in all his years.

 _How long has it been?_

Releasing a long breath through his teeth, Deirean eased himself down from his front hold. His muscles burned, even though he'd only held the position for several hours. They'd atrophied during his time in the _havashah_.

 _Too long._

Something stirred in the bushes nearby, but he did not sense any threat and continued his meditation. Eyes closed, the man stood, rolling his shoulders as the ache began to resolve itself. Where once had been a city now stood a forest. What remained had crumbled into ruins, ruins that had trapped him in darkness for months.

A snarl tore through the air just a few feet away. His eyes snapped open to see a lanky, black-furred beast baring his teeth at him.

 _No… This is not possible…_

The creature lunged, and Deirean acted on instinct. He reached out and caught it by the throat, crushing its windpipe before ripping it out as its corpse sailed past. Staring down at the mass of flesh and fur disappearing in his hand, the man fell to his knees as the remains of the _pech ter'al_ vanished as well.

* * *

 _ **How long has it been?**_

 **Has it really been a whole year since I started publishing this story? It doesn't feel that long, though that's probably because I'm under one chapter a month. I'm working on that, but this semester at college is looking to be super busy, so as much as I want to make promises about increasing my rate, I can't. I won't leave y'all hanging, though, so I WILL continue writing as much as I can.**

 **On to the chapter. Not a whole lot to say, really. It's mostly wrapping up threads from the last few chapters and setting up the coming events. A transitionary chapter, if you will.**

 **Oh, one last thing before I go: I've never brought this up (no idea why), but someone set up a TV Tropes page for Grimmsdottir a while back. It's a little threadbare right now but, if that's your thing, maybe you could go check it out and contribute. I check it out every now and then, and it's always fun to see something new pop up that I hadn't thought about.**

 **Anyway, that's all for now. Au revoir!**


	12. Chapter 12

"I refuse to believe that she actually wants us to make friends with her."

"Hey, believe what you want. I'm just delivering the message."

"Didn't she just say yesterday not to worry about her?"

Mercury shrugged, tossing a handful of kettle corn into his mouth. "Mebbe she change' her min'," he said before swallowing. "I try not to ask too many questions."

Emerald eyed him suspiciously as they walked around the fairgrounds. "I swear to God, Merc, if you're just making this up so you can get close to her, I'm gonna—"

The threat was cut off as the gray-haired teen bumped her shoulder, gesturing toward a group of teens. "There they are." Crumpling up the remains of his snack in its container, he tossed it toward a nearby trashcan as he walked over.

Behind him, Emerald sighed. "Fine, just… let me do the talking."

As they approached the four other teens, Mercury mentally took note of the three males. Remnants of the former Team BRIC, if he recalled. Even together, none of them posed much of a threat, each one too caught up in his own vices to be effective in battle. Really, Aspen was the only interesting one among them. As it was, the girl was staring him down hard, the corner of her lip curled up just enough to bare her teeth. Mercury smirked; if she was trying to scare him off, it was having the opposite effect.

"Hey there!" Emerald called out in that annoyingly cheerful voice he knew she hated so much. Aspen's gaze turned to her, lips parting in a full snarl.

One of the two faunus stepped forward—Ilex, if memory served—noticing the girl's reaction to the two teens. "Do you know these two?" he asked her, looking at them suspiciously. By that point, the other two teens with Aspen had caught onto her reaction.

Emerald put up her hands defensively, taking a step back. "Hey, relax! We met the other day and got off on the wrong foot is all. We just wanted a chance to reintroduce ourselves." A few moments of silence passed before Aspen relaxed—rather, she didn't appear as openly hostile as she had before. "I'm Emerald, and this is my partner Mercury. We're from—"

"Haven," the red-haired teen, Carmine, finished. The corner of his mouth curled up into a hint of a smile, more competitive than friendly. "Congrats on making it to the finals."

Ilex sighed. "I apologize for my partner. Carmine's… He's a dick." He smiled, holding his hand out toward Emerald. "I'm Ilex, that's Rhys…" He pointed toward the other faunus who flashed something in sign language. "… and I guess you already met Aspen."

"Shame you guys aren't in the tournament," Mercury said, much to the annoyance of his partner. He kept his eyes on Aspen, who was looking off at something to her left. "Would have liked to be able to fight you one-on-one."

 _That_ caught her attention. The pale-skinned girl turned, black locks sweeping across her face as she focused her red eyes on him. "You want to fight me?"

"Sure." The word hung in the air, none of the teens outside of the interaction quite sure what was going to happen. Mercury smirked, and Aspen narrowed her eyes.

The girl's fist shot out towards him, her full weight behind it. The attack came so fast that Mercury narrowly avoided getting clipped in the jaw. As she passed in front of him, she suddenly stopped, bending her arm and jerking the elbow up toward him. The gray-haired teen caught it, though it still pushed him back several inches. He could feel the raw power in her muscles and did his best not to show how much he was struggling to hold her at bay.

"Whoa!"

"Hey!"

Excepting Rhys, all of the others immediately moved to split the two teens apart, Ilex moving between them as he and Emerald forced Aspen to pull away. The other faunus was grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet, ready to leap into the fray should the encounter devolve further. As for Carmine, the knife that had materialized in his hand and was now being discreetly resheathed spoke volumes on just how much he trusted Aspen.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ilex asked, one hand out toward Mercury as if to hold him back.

Emerald stepped forward; not far enough to actually be in front of her partner, but enough to engage if need be. "Shouldn't you be asking _her_ that?" she asked, pointing at Aspen.

For her part, the black-haired girl continued to stare at Mercury, head cocked. "I thought you wanted to fight."

"We can," he responded lazily, hands in his pockets, "but we should probably find somewhere more private." He tilted his head slightly, gesturing toward the growing number of onlookers.

Aspen didn't even look at them. "Where?"

"There should be some sparring fields outside the fairgrounds."

"Let's go."

"Hold on! Just… wait!" Ilex stepped between them, breaking their line of sight on each other. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"I agree," Emerald said, leaning toward her partner. "Mercury, the finals start tomorrow night. If you do something to screw it up…" The rest of her words went unspoken for the sake of the others present, but the meaning was clear.

The gray-haired teen rolled his eyes. "Relax, we're just gonna be sparring. You can even watch if you want," he said teasingly. Emerald scowled and growled in frustration, but took a step back, clearly relenting.

Seeing he'd lost his only vocal support, Ilex turned toward the otter faunus. "Rhys—" The shorter teen was still bouncing back and forth, the grin on his face having turned impatient. "Right. That would have been a stupid question." Ilex shook his head and twisted toward his partner. "Carmine? You'll back me up on this, right?"

The red-haired human crossed his arms. "What on Remnant makes you think I'd pass up an opportunity to see how our new _leader_ performs in a proper fight just because you're jealous some other guy got her attention before you?" That shut the lemur faunus up pretty quick, and Mercury smirked at the sight.

With a strangled, impatient grunt, Rhys looked at Aspen and signed something. After a moment of hesitation, she responded in kind, and whatever she said made him laugh. Once that particularly annoying sound had ceased, he signed something else and ran off toward the nearest sparring field. Aspen followed after him and, brushing roughly past Ilex, Carmine did the same.

As Mercury made to head in that direction, however, the faunus grabbed his arm and stopped him. "I don't know what you think you're doing," Ilex threatened, the ears on the top of his head twitching in anger, "but you will stay away from her."

Mercury narrowed his eyes, having to restrain himself from putting the faunus down right there and then. "You know, my father was a drunk. He did a lot of things that most people would be put to death for. Generally, an all-around terrible human being." He pulled his arm free, poking two fingers into the white-haired teen's chest. "And yet he still had the common sense to know that women aren't property, especially ones who could kill you with their bare hands."

Ilex stared him down for a few moments, apparently thinking this was a fight he could win. Eventually, he scowled and walked off after his team. Mercury turned and began heading in that direction as well, Emerald beside him. "I thought your father hated women?"

"Oh, yeah. Like the Grimm."

(- -)

Aspen slowly dragged one foot across the ground. Like her duel with Oliver and Laurel, the field was primarily exposed dirt, only this time it made sense as they were outdoors. To the side of the small arena were several rows of metal benches, each one set higher up than the last in a staircase fashion.

Ilex sat on the lowermost seat, hands clasped together and frosty aura searing her with anger and frustration. In contrast, Carmine, sitting just a row behind and offset from his partner, was unusually calm. The sharp, _**woolen**_ feeling of his aura merely rested against her, shifting ever so slightly with anticipation. Unlike the others, Rhys had chosen to stand, positioning himself on the very edge of the field where he could freely bounce around. Oddly enough, Aspen found his excitement to be soothing, his aura spreading like beeswax over her skin. Toward the upper levels of the seating was the sandy girl, Emerald. Like Ilex, her aura was heated by irritation and frustration, and Aspen could only assume by her glances that it was directed at her opponent.

Mercury stood several feet away from the black-haired girl. Metal and earth slid over her skin as he provoked her will to fight with his own. He smirked. "So, how do you want to do this?"

Aspen shifted the angle of her head a few degrees. Weren't they just going to fight? That was how it had worked with Oliver and Laurel… _No._ They had established rules beforehand, conditions to determine who had beaten the others. The other Hunter-students did the same in the arena, though the conditions were different. Surely that was what he was referring to. "Pins," she said flatly.

The boy's mouth twisted into an odd frown as he shrugged. "Vacuan style, huh? Works for me." Turning his body, he squared up to her in a fashion she mimicked. "How about we make this interesting, though: First pin takes it and the winner gets a favor from the loser?"

Aspen nodded. "As you say."

Grinning and still holding his stance, Mercury shuffled a few inches closer. "Hey, Carmine!" he called over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off his opponent. "You want to call this?"

The red-haired teen sighed, but stood and walked to the midline. He glanced at each of the combatants. "Go."

While attacking first had worked in Aspen's favor against the Ruby Team, she'd taken them by surprise. Against someone who was expecting her, who she hadn't seen fight, she didn't have that advantage, so she was content to let Mercury make the first move. He did just that, launching forward with a flip. Aspen was barely able to register how he was moving before slipping to the side to avoid the downward-arcing kick. Mercury recovered easily from the miss, a blast of air from the sole of his boot propelling his knee up toward Aspen's chest. Crossing her arms in front of her, she caught the strike and forced it aside. He spun with the force, switching his pivot foot during the turn to come at her head with his other heel.

She raised an arm to stop the kick before it could connect. Deciding it was time to counter-attack, she grabbed onto Mercury's leg with one hand while swinging her fist at his knee in a chopping motion. The impact sent a shock up her arm that she hadn't expected, giving Mercury a chance to twist free. _That's not Aura._ It was hard, like metal; not that Aura was soft, but it was more… _**pliable**_. It _flexed_.

Curling her fist to rid herself of the stinging still creeping up her arm, Aspen dodged backward to avoid a trio of kicks. Each attack was accompanied by a round being fired past her head, and she felt a small trickle of blood down the side of her ear as one of the bullets nicked it before the wound quickly sealed off. Growling, she lashed out, attacking with a series of her own kicks and punches. The ones he didn't avoid, Mercury blocked and countered, effectively halting her advance and putting them at a standstill.

Then, one attack hit its mark. Dropping down beneath a wide, arcing kick from Aspen, Mercury kicked upward at her and fired both an air blast from his boot and an actual bullet. Aspen staggered backward, clutching at her abdomen. She could feel the blood seeping out around her hand from several dozen pieces of shrapnel that had torn through her clothes. Trying to step forward again, she stumbled and almost dropped to one knee.

There was a collective feeling of _**worry**_ from the teens on the side, and she could see some of them moving out of the corner of her eye. Their Auras pressed into her skin like a thousand needles, making the pain in her gut nearly bearable in comparison. "Don't tell me that's all you've got," Mercury taunted, not attacking despite the fact that Carmine hadn't called the match yet.

 _A challenge._ Aspen straightened up as the black fibers began to repair the damage and force the shrapnel out. It was excruciating, but she wasn't going to give in so easily. She grinned, ignoring the faint sense of revulsion that drifted in from the sideline. Mercury smirked in return, readying himself for her attack.

Running at her opponent, Aspen kicked one of her legs back and launched herself up into her best imitation of the move the other had opened with. Mercury threw himself backward to stay beneath her leg, flipping over to land on his hands only to fire from one of his boots and slam it into the ground. The attack glanced off Aspen's leg, and she grit her teeth as she kicked at the nearly-prone teen. Mercury was able to deflect it, however, batting her leg aside with his own as he spun back up to his feet with another kick chambered and aimed at her chest. Aspen swung a fist, connecting with the attack just below his knee and knocking it away. In response, the gray-haired teen grabbed her arm and began twisting his other leg around it.

Before Mercury could use the position to his advantage, though, Aspen pulled back as hard as she could, ripping him off-balance as she twisted toward him and punched him in the throat. The boy released her and fell backward, one hand clutching his neck. Despite the injury, he was still focused enough to fire up at her with one of his boots. The bullet ripped past Aspen's head, severing several strands of hair on its poorly-aimed path. Grabbing Mercury's ankle with one hand, she formed a fist and slammed it into his lower leg.

The teen let out a strangled cry of pain as the bones shattered under the impact. Releasing the crippled limb, Aspen lifted her foot and stomped down on the other leg with similar results. Caught up in the euphoria of the moment, she knelt down over her opponent's writhing form, straddling his torso as she wrapped her hands around his neck. As her grip tightened and cut off the flow of blood, his hands came up and grabbed at her shoulders in an attempt to force her off. Eventually, his grip slackened, his arms fell to his sides, and he stopped moving altogether. Aspen tightened her grip even further and, with a satisfying _crack_ , his neck snapped in her hands.

Rising to her feet, the black-haired girl looked around at her surroundings. The stands of the Amity Colosseum encircled her, filled with thousands of spectators, all dead. Their blood poured down the aisles, overflowing down into the arena where she stood. Littering the area around her were the corpses of everyone she had come to know since waking up in the desert: Carmine, Ilex, Laurel, Oliver, Ruby, Blake… Everyone. Somehow, she knew that she had been the one to kill them, and a new feeling rose up in her chest.

 _ **Satisfaction.**_

Aspen turned around and locked eyes with a new figure, one she recognized as Deirean. The man looked at her approvingly, then handed her a short sword. The shape of the blade initially seemed odd—tapering toward the middle before widening again and then coming to a point—but it soon felt natural. As she examined it, she knew immediately what she was to do with it. Turning back to the body at her feet, she was met with green eyes staring back at her as Rhys lay helpless on the ground. The girl angled the blade downward and raised it above her head before silently bringing it down point-first into the faunus's forehead.

Aspen sat up quickly, screaming as pain tore through her skull. Her hands came up to the sides of her head, simultaneously pulling on her hair and pressing on her temples in a futile attempt to relieve or distract from the pain. Familiar auras surrounded her, an overflow of sensory information pressing down on her as she struggled to regain her hold on reality.

"—et a medic or something?!" Ilex's voice, right next to her. Aspen reached out and grabbed onto him, eliciting a spark of surprise from the faunus. "Ah! Hey! Aspen, relax! Rhys is going to get help." Even as he spoke, Aspen could feel the other faunus's beeswax aura beginning to fade. "Are you alright? What happened?"

Aspen grit her teeth, keeping her eyes shut. She didn't… She didn't _know_ what happened. She could feel that same outward force she'd felt when she'd been clinging to the face of the Goliath in the forest: She was scared. What she was scared of, she wasn't sure, but she needed to get past it. "When did I collapse?" she asked through grit teeth.

"I—I don't… Like, less than a minute ago?"

Aspen snarled. "When in the _fight_?"

The cloud of confusion around him settled on her. "Well… He shot you in the stomach, you fought for a bit, then he grabbed your arm and you just… collapsed." She'd had another hallucination. That was clear now that the piercing pain in her skull had receded some, but it had all been so _**vivid**_ that it had been hard to tell. Ilex, Carmine, and Rhys were all still alive. Mercury too.

Aspen opened her eyes and looked over to where she felt his aura stemming from. He stood with his arms crossed, unharmed and frowning. "I guess this means I win," he said, not hiding the disappointment in his voice.

The words sparked a flare of anger from Ilex, burning Aspen. She acted instinctively and shoved him away, only for a flux of emotion to cause her consciousness to fade. The fear returned, stronger than before. Clambering to her feet, Aspen ignored the words of surprise and concern from the teens still present as she looked around at the forest bordering the small field. She needed to get away from them, away from the pressure.

So, she ran.

(- -)

"What exactly was your plan for today again?" Laurel asked idly, checking Timekeeper to make sure it was free of debris. She hadn't used it since their bout with Aspen so it should have been clean, but she didn't want to take any chances.

"Well," Oliver drawled, doing a check of his own weapons, "you'll take Aspen and Rhys, and I get the other two. We split 'em up, we can better focus on addressing their individual issues, then get them to work together better." Laurel frowned and looked down at her gun, something her partner didn't fail to notice. "Why?"

The woman shook her head. "It's nothing," she said, transforming her weapon into its flail form.

Oliver holstered his guns, leaning against the locker. "I know that face."

Laurel sighed, knowing she wasn't going to be able to lie to him anymore. "It's just…"

"You don't think my methods are appropriate," he finished.

Closing her eyes, Laurel took a breath before speaking. "Do you remember when we started having issues fighting together? Back before our first Vytal Tournament?" The question earned a nod of confirmation. "Do you remember when we _stopped_ having issues?"

Oliver thought for a few moments. "Let's see, that would have been…" His face flushed as the answer came to him, and he he clearly had to stop himself from looking away. "…when we started dating."

Laurel felt a heat rise in her own face at his words and quickly regretted trying to make the point she was making. Still, she was already this far. "Well, maybe Ilex and Carmine need something like that."

Any discomfort her partner was feeling vanished as he gave her a look of confusion. "You want to hook them up with each other?"

"N-no! That's not what I—" The heat in Laurel's face grew immediately, and she desperately tried to purge it with her Semblance. "No amount of training was going to make us stop… ogling each other in the middle of a fight. I don't know that their issues are going to be fixed that way either."

Oliver frowned, but nodded. "Maybe you're right." As he spoke, his scroll rang in his pocket. When he pulled it out to see who was calling, his frown only deepened. "Speaking of…" He clicked the answer button and held the scroll up to his ear. "Before you say anything, Ilex, I want to make it very clear that none of you are going to be getting out of training today." As the faunus responded, Oliver's eyes drifted to Laurel, brow wrinkled with concern. Pulling the scroll away from his ear, he activated the speakerphone system so she could hear as well. "Why the hell would Aspen just run off?"

Laurel sighed quietly to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. _Of_ _ **course**_ _she would do that…_

-/ _Well, I'm not entirely certain,_ /- Ilex said, his voice buzzing over the scroll as he clearly chose his words carefully, -/ _but I think it might've had to do with her passing out in the middle of a fight._ /-

 _Passed out? Oh, no…_

"What was she doing in a fight?" Laurel sighed; leave it to Oliver to miss the important details.

-/ _Some guy from Mistral challenged her. Also, for the record, I was against it fro—_ /-

"You said she passed out?" Laurel interrupted, grabbing the scroll from her partner's hands. "You're sure about that?"

There was a moment of hesitation from Ilex. -/ _Well, yeah. She definitely wasn't conscious._ /-

"But she was still breathing, right? She had a pulse?" There was an urgency to her voice that even she hadn't expected, and it earned her a strange look from Oliver that she quickly brushed off.

The teen didn't answer for several seconds. -/ _I mean, I didn't check, and she woke up before the medics got here._ /- Laurel cursed under her breath without really knowing why, though it was apparently loud enough to be picked up by the scroll. -/ _Wait… has this happened before?_ /-

"Are the three of you armed?" Oliver asked, taking the scroll back from his partner. He gave her the same odd look again, but she just shook her head. They could worry about Aspen's health later; for now, he had the right idea.

-/ _Uh... Yeah. Well, I am,_ /- Ilex answered, sounding just a little confused. -/ _The others ar—Wait, are you going to have us go looking for her?_ /-

Oliver ignored the question, choosing to let the faunus figure it out on his own. "Tell Rhys and Carmine to get geared up, and stay put. Laurel and I are heading out now." Not waiting for Ilex's inevitable complaint, he ended the call and slipped the scroll back into his pocket.

Laurel was already heading out the door, Timekeeper on her back. _Goddammit, Aspen._

(- -)

Branches snapped and fell to the ground as Aspen ran past. She paid them no attention, continuing to press forward, deeper into the forest. The fear in her chest hadn't subsided, no matter how far she got from the others. She couldn't even feel them anymore, and that made the fear pierce even further.

How long had she been running? She didn't know. It was mid-afternoon, at least, but she had no destination, no plan: Just _run_. What was she running _from_ , then? She didn't have time to think about it, she needed to—

Aspen's foot caught within a cluster of roots and she crashed to the ground. As she came to a halt, her mind drifted to the fear and, against her will, latched onto it. What was happening to her? She had blacked out again, and with that had come another hallucination. It had been different this time. There had been no darkness, no light: Only death by her hands. She had killed them all; not just Laurel and Oliver, but _everyone_ she knew. She hadn't even wanted to. She just did it and was _satisfied_ with what she'd done, and that terrified her.

She terrified herself.

Rising up to her knees, Aspen grit her teeth as the pain welled up inside her, threatening to pierce through her skin in ten thousand different places. A new sound gradually filled her ears, and she soon realized it was the sound of her own scream. It was pained, scared, and desperate.

As the scream faded, a voice reached out to her. " _Your koravah: It is unsated._ " The girl lifted her eyes to see Deirean standing over her. The sight caused the fear in her chest to fade considerably, but it still lingered. He turned away from her, facing deeper into the forest. " _Come. I have need of you, and it would appear you have need of me._ " As he walked away, Aspen rose to her feet. There was an ache in her ankle, but it paled in comparison to the _**yearning**_ for comfort she felt. With a limp, she followed the man into the trees.

* * *

 **It was at this point that I accidentally started shipping Aspen and Mercury. I made jokes about his attraction to her before, but this chapter took it a bit further. They both seem like the type of people who would consider fighting as a form of flirtation, and that idea is kind of what spawned this chapter.**

 **There are more important things to discuss, however, such as why Aspen lost this fight. Obviously, it's because she passed out, but even before that she was struggling. She's really only fought other people twice before and, in both instances, the people she fought weren't really prepared to fight someone like her. Oliver didn't want to go too hard on her and, when Laurel joined, they were both caught off guard by her strength. RWBY had just wrapped up a fight against four others and weren't expecting Aspen to be able to counter them so effectively. Mercury, however, knows what she's capable of and is ready to meet that head-on. He's also shown to be a highly skilled fighter anyway, so that certainly helps. There were, of course, other factors that determined the outcome, but I'm not quite ready to explain those yet.**

 **On a somewhat related note, the vision Aspen had in this chapter is easily the darkest thing I've written so far, and hopefully shows just how not-quite-right Aspen is. The visions are a lot of fun to write, but they also have significance. I think I'll leave the interpretations up to you, but I don't think they're too hard to figure out.**

 **I think this about does it for now. I hope you've enjoyed and would love to hear your thoughts. Au revoir!**


	13. Chapter 13

Out in the wilderness, there weren't any rules to follow, no laws to break. Rhys was probably thrilled by that, but it ran counter to everything Ilex had grown up with. Structure pervaded much of his life back home, and moving past that wasn't something that came easily. He did his best, however, because that was what was expected of a Huntsman; the Grimm wouldn't adhere to rules of engagement, after all. That didn't mean he had to enjoy it, though.

"How are we supposed to find Aspen in the middle of the forest?"

Carmine's scowl was practically audible. "We're Hunters. It's in the title. I'm sure even you can figure it out."

 _Ri-i-ight,_ Ilex thought bitterly. _Because, y'know, I'm a total idiot._ Reaching out, he snapped a branch off a nearby tree and fiddled with it before letting it drop to the ground. "I _mean_ , she seems like the type of person who doesn't get found unless she wants to be."

The human paused, giving Ilex a look that said he'd actually made a good point, but not one that he was going to outright agree with. As Carmine resumed walking, he jerked a thumb back in the general direction of where they'd last seen Mantis and Tawny. "Why don't you tell that to them, then?" he said sarcastically. "I'm sure they'd love to hear it."

The corner of Ilex's lip curled upward, but he kept quiet. Carmine was on his side on this, even if he would never say it. He wasn't sure what was wrong with Aspen that had caused her to collapse but, considering she had run off with no trouble, the faunus doubted she was in any actual danger. This was the girl who apparently ripped plates off of Grimm for fun, after all.

A cracking in the brush ahead of them caused them to stop, and the blades in Ilex's vambraces extended as he tensed up. To his left, Carmine already had his crossbow drawn and ready. Judging by the sound, whatever was coming was big— _probably an Ursa_ —and moving fast. Fighting down the sick feeling in his stomach, Ilex readied himself for a fight.

The brush parted and an irritated-looking Rhys stumbled out. He didn't see them at first, cursing with his hands as he plowed through the bushes and branches. When he did see them, he immediately signed a question. | _Have you found her yet?_ |

Ilex rolled his eyes as he snapped the blades back into their sheaths. "If we'd found her, don't you think she'd be with us right now?" Pouting, the deaf faunus made a few strangled noises before asking another, almost identical question. "No, we haven't seen any Grimm, either," Ilex answered. He paused and turned to his partner. "Come to think of it, that does seem a little weird."

"Not really," Carmine countered, resting his crossbow up onto his shoulder. "This forest is right next to the fairgrounds. It would be a bloodbath if the Grimm populations weren't kept in check. Plus, I'm sure all the Grimm Aspen killed yesterday helped." The human turned to Rhys. "Now, where have you looked already? I don't want to waste my time."

Ilex filtered his teammates out, ears twitching as he turned his attention to the forest around them. _No Grimm, huh?_ _This whole ordeal might not be so bad after all._ Something snapped behind him, and he caught a flash of red eyes and pale skin before everything went black.

(- - -)

Aspen followed Deirean through the forest in silence. The injury to her ankle had healed long ago, and now she simply waited for the man to come to a halt. She yearned for the help he could provide, a desire strong enough to override the fear and uncertainty still residing in her chest.

Eventually, they entered a large clearing. Though she could not recall having been there before, something about it _resonated_ in Aspen. A single structure stood amongst the trees: a round, stone ruin with pillars that may have supported a roof of some kind. It was to this place that Deirean led her and, when they were close enough, she ran a hand over one of the pillars that still stood. How had she not come across this before? " _Is this… rephaite?_ " she asked.

" _These stones were not laid by our kind._ " Standing in the center of the structure, he let out a shuddering breath. " _A city once stood here, the largest of all our settlements. It would seem the havneel built over it in their victory, and yet even they had to cede these lands to the pech ter'al._ "

 _ **Pech ter'al.**_ The words echoed in Aspen's ears. _**The wild ones**_ _—Grimm._ Images of blood and viscera flashed through her mind, as well as one of herself, teeth bared and a crazed look in her eyes. " _The Grimm—the creatures in this forest—they are rephaim?_ "

Deirean's lips drew into a thin line as he gazed about the ruin. " _At one time, they could have been, but acting without control for untold millenia has twisted them beyond recognition._ " His head dipped. " _They are lost._ " Even without an aura to feel, Aspen could sense the despair in his voice, and it only served to bring her own actions to her attention.

" _I… did not know._ " In just two days, she had slaughtered countless Grimm. She had hunted creatures of her own blood and torn them to pieces. How was she supposed to feel about that?

The man was silent for a minute before he turned toward her again. " _When did you last meditate?_ "

Aspen considered the question for several moments, brought out of her previous thoughts. The simple answer would have been to say she had never meditated, but the word had begun to resonate faintly within her. She should know what he meant, but she did not. " _I do not understand._ "

A low hiss emanated from Deirean's throat. " _rephaim do not require sleep as the havneel do, something I am sure you have discovered in your time among them._ " Aspen nodded. It was a ritual she had witnessed Laurel and her team perform multiple times, but had never felt any draw to take part in. " _We instead focus our minds and our bodies, regaining our energy and building our strength without leaving ourselves vulnerable._ "

That… made sense to Aspen. While she still wasn't entirely sure she grasped the concept, one moment stood out to her. " _Four nights ago,_ " she said, answering his question. She had been on the massive airship with Laurel. As the woman had slept, Aspen had been gazing out the window down at the clouds below and straining against her "seatbelt." She couldn't explain it at the time, but doing so had made her better than she had been before.

Though he was not moving, it was clear that the answer surprised the man. " _And have you collapsed since then?_ " he asked, almost clinically.

Aspen stared at the ground, finding something new building in her chest, something she couldn't quite place. It was stifling, like cotton being pressed over every surface of her body. _**Shame.**_ " _Yes,_ " she admitted. The feeling only grew worse. " _That is why I ran._ "

A weight settled onto the back of her head. Looking up, she saw that Deirean had placed a hand on her neck, thumb resting behind her ear. " _You were unaware. It is no fault of your own._ " His words eased her shame, though she still could not shake it entirely. " _Have you killed in that time?_ " Aspen nodded and he removed his hand. " _Then by now your koravah will do little to restore your energy._ "

The girl did her best to understand what he was referring to—the word sounded familiar, and not simply because he'd used it earlier—but she could not. " _I do not know what that means._ "

Looking away, Deirean rolled his shoulders in disappointment. " _For all the knowledge we are capable of imparting in the havashah, there are still things that must be taught._ " Recognizing that the words were not directed at her, Aspen waited patiently for the man to speak again. " _The havneel would call the koravah a 'blood lust.' They are not wrong. It is a call to battle, to kill: to take our enemies' strength for our own. To sate it can stave off the need for meditation, but it is not a substitute._ "

Returning to the center of the ruin, the man turned back to face her and gestured to the ground in front of him. " _Sit._ " Aspen did as she was told, and the man lowered himself to the ground as well. " _It is time you learned what it is to be rephaim._ "

(-)

Hunting in Vale was a lot different than hunting in Vacuo. For starters, there weren't nearly as many trees in the desert. The Grimm were different as well, with the most common ones being more like mammals than insects—Oliver couldn't be thankful enough for that. At the very least, looking for someone who'd gone missing wasn't a new experience.

"So, Tawny, what's with the sudden concern for Aspen?" Oliver asked, idly tapping at Venation's trigger guards. The woman didn't answer, pretending she was too focused on keeping an eye out for Grimm or the girl for small talk. "I mean, last night you were complaining about how she woke you up at three in the morning, but now you're worried because she might've passed out and died again?"

Tawny sighed and lowered Timekeeper. "It's our job to keep track of her and her team," she said, still slowly advancing through the forest.

"Well," Oliver said, dragging the word out, "technically our job is to keep them from dropping out—" Tawny gave him a sideways glare. "—but I'm on board with you. It just feels like this whole 'caring about Aspen' thing came out of nowhere."

It wasn't until Oliver had taken a few more steps that he realized his partner had come to a stop. When he looked back at her, her eyes were pointed downward. "I guess…" she started, pursing her lips. "I guess—if I'm being honest—I've been thinking about what you said last night, about her and I being similar?" Oliver nodded patiently. "I got thinking about how, if I was in her situation, I'd probably be pretty freaked out…" She looked up again, the edge having returned to her eyes. "And Aspen freaked out can't be good for anyone."

Oliver smirked. "Ah, there it is. You had me worried there for a—" His sentence was interrupted by his scroll ringing. Holstering one of his hand cannons, the Hunter pulled it out to see who was contacting him. _Carmine._ Answering the call, he put the scroll up to his ear. "Please tell me you've found her."

(-)

"Now, where have you looked already? I don't want to waste my time." As Rhys began to explain where he'd searched, Carmine heard something heavy hit the ground to his right. He turned just in time to see Aspen slam Ilex's head into a nearby tree, splintering the bark and rendering the faunus unconscious.

The surprise attack caught Carmine off-guard, and by the time he'd fumbled his weapon into a ready position, the girl had already wrapped her hands around his partner's neck. As much as he disliked Ilex, Carmine wasn't going to stand by and let Aspen kill him. Aiming at the black-haired assailant, he fired with the intention of drawing her attention.

What he hadn't intended was for the bolt to bury itself between two of her ribs. Aspen's back arched in pain as she let out a short scream. _She really doesn't have Aura…_ he thought dumbly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys lifting Bullrush to his shoulder in preparation to fire. Carmine quickly reached out and yanked at the rocket launcher, much to its wielder's ire. "Nothing lethal!" he ordered. _Granted, lethality seems to be a narrower spectrum for her than most,_ he mused as the girl reached around her back to extract the bolt.

Rhys rolled his eyes and dropped the hunk of metal to the ground before flaring his Semblance and charging forward. Aspen had barely removed the projectile when the otter faunus impacted with her, knocking her off Ilex. Collapsing and returning his weapon to its quiver, Carmine ran over to where his partner was slumped and quickly checked him over. _Still breathing. Lucky him._ As the human stood, he pulled out the knife sheathed at his lower back in preparation for a more intimate fight.

Aspen had taken the upper hand over Rhys as soon as they had come to a stop, straddling him as she landed punch after punch directly onto his face. Through it all, the battle-crazy faunus _grinned_. It probably helped to know that his Semblance effectively kept the girl from doing any damage to him whatsoever, but that sort of reaction still wasn't normal.

After the sixth punch, Rhys reached up to grab Aspen and forcefully head-butted her. Stunned by the blow, she fell backward off the teen. With a happy laugh, Rhys sprang to his feet before relaunching his attack with a chaotic flurry of arms and legs.

Letting the faunus handle the fighting, Carmine pulled out his scroll and keyed a call to Mantis. The answer came quickly. -/ _Please tell me you've found her._ /-

The teen glanced up at Aspen as she struggled to block Rhys's unpredictable assault. "Yeah, but you might want to get over here quick before Rhys breaks her." While the brown-haired faunus was a year younger than most first-year students, he made up for that lack of experience with sheer ferocity.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be enough to stop Aspen entirely. Having recovered from the headbutt, the girl grabbed one of Rhys's arms as he came in with a wide swing and twisted it under her own. She turned into his guard before he could react and flipped him over her head. Had it not been for his Aura, the move would have surely done serious damage to the faunus's arm. As it was, he was grabbing at his shoulder when he stood up, though the manic grin on his face belied any pain he might have been feeling. With a throaty laugh, he leapt forward again, only to get knocked back with a flash of bronze as Aspen caught him under the chin with an uppercut.

 _Great._ Carmine grumbled to himself; Ilex was unconscious and Rhys had blown through his Aura, which meant it was down to him to subdue the madwoman who was capable of besting Yang Xiao Long in hand-to-hand combat. Quickly estimating the distance to the girl, he flipped the knife in his hand and threw it at her.

The blade thudded into Aspen's back, just below her right shoulder, and she staggered forward a step. Not giving her a chance to recover, Carmine dashed forward. He ducked beneath a wild swing from her right arm, slipped behind her and pulled the knife out with a spurt of blood. In a moment, he'd pulled her into a half nelson, holding the crimson-stained blade against one of the major blood vessels in her neck. She immediately tensed up as if to attempt to break the hold, but just as quickly went limp.

The sudden dead weight surprised him, and he leaned back instinctively to better support it. He didn't, however, remove the blade from her neck. "Aspen?" No response. Slowly easing the knife away, he wiped the blood off on his pant leg before lifting it back up beneath her nose. The metal fogged over, so she was breathing, at least.

Sheathing his weapon, Carmine eased the girl down to the ground. "Well," he muttered, looking around at the three unconscious or near-unconscious bodies surrounding him, "this is going to be fun to explain."

(-)

Aspen awoke to the sound of beeping. There had been no visions. There had been no sudden pain. Only darkness. She didn't know if she preferred it that way or not. There was, however, a dull ache in one of her arms. Opening her eyes, she found herself lying on a bed and enveloped in white, with a familiar… _**sterile**_ smell hanging in the air. _Hospital._ At least, that's where she'd been the last time she'd smelled it. Glancing sluggishly down at her right arm, she saw a tube stuck into it, just below her elbow. She'd had one last time too, and Oliver had called it… He'd called it something. She was having trouble remembering it for some reason, though.

Lifting her other arm, Aspen attempted to reach over and remove the tube. She was stopped almost immediately, as something tugged at her wrist with a metallic _clink._ Her eyes drifted over. A metal restraint held her wrist to a rail on the side of the bed, and she realized that there was one around her opposite wrist as well.

"She's awake."

With an unusual amount of effort required, Aspen turned her head to see who had spoken. Two men stood next to the door to her left, guns pointed at her. _Oh._ She blinked as they briefly blurred in her vision. Why hadn't she felt their auras? Straining, she reached out and eventually found them. They were full of distrust… and just a hint of fear. _Why?_ What had she done to—

The forest. Her team. She turned her head back to look at her restraints, now understanding what they were for. They were scared of her. They were scared that she would attack them. They were scared that she might kill them. But why was there so little fear?

She drifted over to the tube in her arm, following it up to a pair of bags hanging from a metal rack. One contained what looked to be water while the other contained a ruddy-brown liquid she couldn't identify. _But, maybe…?_ If they were… _**sediment… sedition—sedating**_ her, that would explain why she was having trouble thinking and moving, and why they weren't so afraid of her. _That and the guns and restraints,_ she added as an afterthought.

Seconds later—or maybe not—the door opened. Aspen rolled her head to the side to see Ozpin walk in. With effort, she was able to grab onto memories from their last meeting. Many of the details were familiar, though he held no ceramic cup this time. Last time, he had given her a challenge that had led to her becoming a student. Something made her doubt this meeting would end in her favor.

"I am extremely disappointed in you, Miss Gray."

Aspen blinked. Ozpin now stood at the foot of her bed, and the two other men were nowhere to be seen. When had they left? She didn't think she had taken her eyes off the door.

"When I accepted you into my school, I did so overlooking the fact that you attacked and nearly killed three of my students." The man stood with both his hands on his cane, leaning his weight onto it as he gave her a hard look over the odd wire-and-glass frame on his face. "I did so under the impression that you wanted to utilize your gifts to combat the Grimm. Instead, you once again attacked your fellow students—your own _team_ —and this is something I cannot overlook."

Aspen stared at the man, struggling to discern the Headmaster's intentions. Her inability to focus on his face was making that even more difficult, however. Did he want her to—What was the word?— _apologize_? From what Ruby had asked her to promise, she felt she at least had a basic grasp of the concept. Attacking Ilex, Carmine, and Rhys wasn't something she was proud of. Maybe if Ozpin just understood that—

"—eason as to why I should not expel you immediately?"

 _What?_ Aspen refocused her eyes on the man. He had been talking, and she had lost focus. What had he said? Had he given her a chance to explain?

The man shook his head in disappointment. "I thought not." Lifting his cane, he began to walk toward the door. Frustrated, Aspen closed her eyes in an attempt to focus her thoughts. The last time they'd spoken, he'd asked her something important. What was… _"Do you know what_ _ **you**_ _are?"_

She heard the man's hand settle on the door handle, and she spoke as quickly as her present state allowed. Even then, her words sounded labored, even to her own ears. "I know what I am now." She kept her eyes closed, but could still tell that the man had not left.

"And what might that be?"

Aspen took a slow breath before reopening her eyes. Ozpin was looking down at her from the door, his brown eyes looking intently at her. "I am rephaim."

The man did not seem surprised by the information. "Indeed. Do you understand, then, why I have given you the opportunities I have?"

Aspen slowly nodded, finding the action not as difficult as it should have been. "I think so."

"Good." There was a slight upturn to the corner of Ozpin's mouth as he spoke, but it soon vanished. "If there are any further incidents, I will not be so forgiving."

 _That_ had been the sort of challenge Aspen had been expecting, and its meaning was clear. "As you say."

* * *

 **So, if it wasn't clear before this chapter, Aspen is a Grimm. Sort of. I guess the title of the story really isn't even that accurate since she's not born of the Grimm, but rather the Grimm come from… Never mind. So, yeah, the whole "humanoid Grimm" thing was kind of the whole premise of this story. Not necessarily a unique concept on its own, but I wanted to put my own take on it. Hopefully it's been enjoyable so far.**

 **If this chapter seems a bit frantic, it's because it wasn't really planned out as far in advance as other chapters have been. The decision to have Aspen attack her team came at the end of writing Chapter 12, so even as I was writing this chapter I was trying to work out just what the repercussions of that would be. We got a bit of those this chapter, but it's going to end up bleeding into the next three chapters at the very least.**

 **That's it for now. I'm still trying to work my writing around my college schedule, and I'm optimistic that it'll improve soon. Until the next chapter, I encourage you to give feedback and follow if you're not already. Au revoir!**


	14. Chapter 14

_14243, 14244, 14245…_

Aspen let out a breath as she continued to count. One hand at a time, she released the bar, steel warm from her prolonged contact with it, just long enough to bend her arms and relieve the dull ache building in her joints. It was her first time properly meditating, and it had been surprisingly difficult to start. Deirean hadn't exactly given her clear guidelines as to what technique to use. She eventually settled on holding herself above a bar in what Laurel had referred to as the "gym," keeping herself up with her arms. It seemed to be effective enough, as the _**coolness**_ she'd first felt on the airship trickled through her body.

 _14264, 14265, 14266…_

The only trouble she'd had after that had been focusing her mind. Most of the other Hunter-students—including, she supposed, her own team—were performing their own rejuvenation rituals, and their passive auras offered no distraction. Had they been awake, perhaps she would have had something to focus on. Instead, it was her own thoughts that prevented her from concentrating. Thoughts of Deirean, Ozpin, and her actions in the forest created a storm in her mind, but she ultimately found solace counting the seconds that passed. It proved efficient, in that she also forced herself to learn the numbers, even if the lengths proved an obstacle the higher she got.

 _14297, 14298, 14299…_

The small knot of fibers below Aspen's elbow where the IV had been began to itch, and she again shifted her weight to allow herself to scratch it. After her conversation with Ozpin, the two guards had reappeared, along with a third man who dressed similarly to some of the people from the hospital. One of the guards had removed the restraints from her wrists while the other kept his weapon pointed at her lest she make any threatening action. The third man had done something with the tube in her arm, stopping the flow of the liquids before pulling the needle out of her arm. She could feel the small would seal up instantly, but the man's surprised aura seemed to indicate he had not expected it. He'd proceeded to explain something about letting whatever they had put in her run its course and waiting to leave, then left her with a glass of water to drink.

 _14314, 14315, 14—_

"So, you are down here."

The sudden intrusion ripped Aspen out of her meditative state with a start, causing her grip to falter. Her hands slipped back towards her and she fell, catching the bar with her chin on her way down. Landing unsteadily on her feet, she slumped forward onto one knee as she clutched her jaw.

Almost immediately, she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders as Oliver knelt down next to her. "Shit! Are you alright?"

Aspen raised her head to look at the man. Why hadn't she sensed him approach? Was she still being by the sedative? No, she could feel his aura settling over her skin now, guiding her back to her feet. More auras began to make their presences known, and the girl looked around to see several other students in the gym, most of them giving her strange stares. She hadn't sensed any of them… Had she been that focused on her meditation?

"Hey, Aspen," Oliver said insistently, moving his head to the side to recapture her attention. "Are you oh-kay?"

The black-haired girl blinked, still trying to make sense of everything that was happening. _Oh… kay?_ He seemed to be asking if she was hurt, but his use of the word was different than it had been before. Aspen tightened her jaw, letting the pain run its course. "I am… okay," she said hesitantly. Yes, that sounded right.

Oliver's hands dropped from her shoulders, leaving her feeling strangely exposed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you." Aspen just nodded as she picked her hoodie up from where she had lain it down. As much as she found comfort in the pressure it offered, the sensation leftover from the needle in her arm was less irritating without the garment. "I heard they used some pretty heavy stuff to keep you sedated last night," the man continued, slowly walking through the gym. "You… uh… feeling alright?"

Aspen paused as she slipped her arms into her sleeves. Hadn't he just asked her that? No, he was asking about the sedative now, not the fall. "It is not affecting me anymore," she answered, zipping up her hoodie.

"Right…" With a sigh, Oliver sat down on a nearby bench. "Look, I'll just cut to the chase. I'm sure Ozpin already talked to you about this, but I need to ask anyway: Why did you attack Ilex and the others?"

 _Why?_ The man wasn't angry; in fact, Aspen couldn't remember ever feeling true anger from him. There was frustration, however, and a touch of… sadness. _Disappointment_ _ **.**_ Could she tell him the truth? "It was a…" She paused to search for the right word. "… test."

Disbelief from Oliver—no, surprise. "A test? You were testing them?"

Aspen furrowed her brow at the misunderstanding. "No. Me."

The man's expression briefly shifted to confusion before flipping to realization and back to disappointment. "Aspen…" He sighed, leaning forward to rub his forehead.

In the brief silence, the girl sat down on the bench with him. What she'd done hadn't sat well with her, even when she'd been doing it. If Oliver knew the full extent of what she'd attempted to do—of what she'd _almost_ done—then he'd surely feel the same way about her that Ozpin did. For some reason she couldn't explain, she didn't think she wanted that, but all she could do was brace herself.

"You don't need to prove yourself anymore." Aspen looked at the man, not feeling any of the emotions she'd feared or even seeing them in his eyes. He'd misunderstood her again. She opened her mouth to correct him, but he cut her off. "I know you lost that fight with that Haven kid, but that doesn't mean you don't belong here. You're strong already."

"I'm not strong _enough_ , though," she countered, already forgetting that she was supposed to correct him on something else entirely. "I couldn't beat him, and I couldn't beat the Goliaths in the forest."

Oliver laughed, the sudden burst of mirth causing the girl to tense up. "I wouldn't be able to kill _one_ Goliath with my sword, much less two with my bare hands." Turning, he placed one hand on her shoulder and the stress in her body melted away at the contact. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to get better, but don't let anyone tell you you're not good enough, not even yourself."

A spark of flame lit up inside Aspen's chest. No, that wasn't quite right. It was warm, but it didn't hurt. In some ways, it was like the light in her hallucinations. _**Happiness.**_ Had she been happy before? She couldn't remember feeling it—not in herself, at least. It was… nice.

"That said, you can't be attacking students anymore," Oliver continued, distracting Aspen from her newfound emotion.

The girl looked down at her hands, one curled up inside the other. "I won't," she said running the thumb of the outside hand over her fist.

There was a flash of distrust from Oliver, and Aspen took in a small breath. "I want to believe you, Aspen, but you _really_ haven't made that easy, especially in the last few days."

She nodded slowly, then turned her head to meet his brown eyes with her red ones. "I won't hurt them because I don't want to." She took another short breath and let it out. "I don't want to hurt anyone again."

Something in what she said must have convinced the man because, after a moment of contemplation, he smiled gently. "Alright," he said, rising to his feet. He glanced down at her as she remained seated and sighed again. "Look… Laurel and I were planning on running the four of you through some sparring exercises, but I can understand if you're not up for that right now."

Aspen looked down as she tried to figure out what Oliver meant by "up." _Is he saying I don't have to train if I don't want to?_ "I don't have a problem with sparring," she clarified.

Oliver hummed, a sound Aspen had come to associate with acknowledgment. "Well, I still think it'll be best if we hold off on it for now, at least until after the festival is over. That'll give you some time to get to know the others better." Ilex had been trying to do just that, at least until she decided to fight Mercury. "You should probably go talk to them."

Aspen nodded. "As you say." She felt a spark of amused confusion from the man before he unexpectedly patted the top of her head with one calloused hand. What was even more unexpected was how the contact inexplicably caused both the warmth to return to her chest and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end in warning. She kept still, however, as the man walked away. _Odd._

(- -)

As she stood in front of the door, Aspen curled her hands into fists. On the other side, she could feel her team, along with several others, partaking in different activities. A myriad of emotions pressed and wormed against her skin, from frustration and disdain to glee and amusement. Taking a breath, she opened the door and entered the training room.

A number of students were gathered around a small ring where Rhys seemed to be sparring with another student. Ilex was among those spectating though, on closer examination, Aspen saw that he wasn't truly focused on the fight. Rather, he seemed more intent on talking with the girl next to him. The only one she didn't immediately see was Carmine. She could feel his aura, however, and soon spotted him sitting in a dark corner of the room, on the upper row of one of the stair-step benches around the room.

As Aspen walked toward them, Rhys tackled into his opponent. Despite being much smaller in stature, the faunus managed to lift the armored teen and eject him from the ring, much to the dismay of some of the spectators. Rhys lifted his arms in victory and spun around. He stopped himself mid-turn as he saw the girl, a grin on his face as he leapt out of the ring and ran toward her. Having been the center of attention just moments before, the faunus's actions subsequently drew that focus to her, including Ilex's. With a few hushed words to the girl he was with, the white-haired teen started to make his way toward her as well.

Aspen paused as the emotional balance of the room shifted toward the negative. Suspicion, curiosity, and fear all struck her at once, and she could feel her heartbeat quicken as her instincts began to take hold. She closed her eyes in an attempt to regain control over herself as her senses began to sharpen, but that didn't stop her from hearing the whispers, the hushed questions as the students recognized her from her fight with the Ruby Team.

Something tapped her arm just above the elbow, and she quickly latched onto the contact to anchor herself. When she opened her eyes, Rhys was standing in front of her, pulling his arm back. | _Do you want to spar?_ | he asked quickly, the grin still on his face.

Aspen's answer was just as quick. | _No._ |

Rhys's face quickly turned to a scowl and he looked away, but he was just as quickly brought out of his pout as Ilex walked up. "Hey, Aspen," he said, tilting his head back as if to point his chin at her. She did her best not to be insulted by the gesture. "How are you feeling?"

"I am fine," Aspen said, sensing his concern wasn't genuine.

The white-haired faunus stepped in front of her, preventing her from continuing past him. "In that case, how about we hop in the ring, go a round or two?"

As with Rhys, the girl did not hesitate to answer. "No." She attempted to step to the side, but he mirrored her movement.

"You didn't have a problem doing it yesterday with a stranger."

Aspen scowled as she flashed back to Mercury's taunting. "That… was a mistake."

"Of course it was." Ilex laughed dryly, giving her a chance to walk past. "Hey, hold on!" Reaching out, he grabbed her arm roughly. "I'm not—"

Whatever he had been about to say got cut off as Aspen broke his grip with her free hand and delivered a kick to the back of his knees. Before he could fall, she reached out with the arm he had grabbed and caught him by the throat. "Do _not_ touch me," she growled. She could stand Oliver touching her: he made her feel warm. Ilex, though, only felt cold, and she didn't like the cold. Releasing him, she allowed him to stand again. "Follow me. I have to apologize to you three," she said, signing the words for Rhys as well.

"Do you _know_ what an apology is?" Ilex asked, rubbing lightly at his neck. He wasn't mad, but he was annoyed and a little confused.

"I think I know enough," Aspen answered honestly as she began moving toward Carmine. The other students had turned back to talking amongst themselves, though she did sense something new mixed in that hadn't been there before. _**Respect**_ , directed toward her. She accidentally locked eyes with one source of the emotion, the same girl Ilex had been talking to before. The rose-haired girl gave her a slight nod before quickly looking away to talk to someone else.

Immediately pushing the interaction out of her mind, Aspen climbed the steps up to Carmine. The teen had already risen to his feet and was looking down at her and the two faunus. Disdain and suspicion crawled readily from his aura, but he maintained a neutral expression. "What do you want?"

Aspen held his gaze, fighting the urge to attack him— to silence his aura. Breaking eye contact, she looked down at Ilex and Rhys below her. "I'm here to apologize for what I did last night."

Rhys laughed, a harsh throaty sound that caused Ilex to cover his eyes with his hands and Carmine to bristle with irritation. Aspen furrowed her brow. Had she not done it right? Seeing her confusion, Rys signed, | _Why would you apologize for fighting? Fighting is fun._ |

"Only for you," Ilex muttered under his breath, having glanced back up in time to see what the faunus had said.

"Honestly, I don't even care," Carmine said, stepping down to the same level as Aspen. "You didn't do shit to me, so it really doesn't matter."

Aspen furrowed her brow. She was unfamiliar with his phrasing, but she could guess what it meant. "I would have."

The human's muscles tensed, and the emotions coming off his aura only grew stronger. "If there's nothing else, I would like to get ready for our training today."

"Oliver cancelled training until after the tournament," she informed him.

Carmine flared his nostrils, an action that didn't quite seem appropriate under the circumstances. "Then I have better things to do," he said, turning to walk down the rest of the benches.

After watching his partner skirt the group of students setting up another fight, Ilex turned back to Aspen with a wide smile. "As the only person on this team who you actually hurt that _isn't_ absolutely crazy—" He cast a sideways glance at Rhys. "—I, for one, accept your apology, though if you wanted to apologize for grabbing my throat, too…"

Aspen frowned. "No." She felt she had a good enough grasp on the concept of apologies and, in her eyes, she had not been at fault for what had happened. Deciding there was no further reason for her to be there, she descended down toward the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ilex reach for her as she passed. Fortunately, he stopped himself from actually touching her. "Okay, fine. Where are you going now?"

She stopped, considering her options. She felt her morning meditation had been sufficient for the time being, and she currently had no desire to fight students or Grimm. There was really only one thing that came to mind. "I am going to work on my armor."

Rhys leapt down the few levels to reach her. | _Can I help?_ | he asked excitedly.

Aspen slowly raised her hands. While she was wary of the possibility that the faunus could damage her supply of Grimm plates, an additional set of hands would make the work go by faster. On top of that, it would be an opportunity to learn about him. | _Yes._ |

Continuing her descent, Aspen could feel Ilex's hesitation behind her and glanced over her shoulder. The ears on the top of his head were twitching as he scratched his jaw, violet eyes directed to the side. When he noticed her looking at him, his ears stilled and he smiled. Something about it seemed… _strange_ , though _._ _**Disingenuous**_.

"I'll be, uh…" he started, clearing his throat. "I'll be around if you need me for anything."

Furrowing her brow at the odd behavior, Aspen allowed herself to be pulled down the benches by Rhys. Perhaps it had something to do with the different auras, but the contact didn't bother her as much as it had with Ilex. It didn't elicit the same reaction as Oliver, of course, but that was another matter. Putting her thoughts aside, she made her way back around the students watching the new fight. She drew the attention of a few as she passed, but the majority were too focused to notice her. _Unless they're ignoring me._ In either event, she was grateful that most of their emotions weren't directed at her.

The moment the door closed behind her, Rhys was in front of her, asking where her armor was. | _Follow me,_ | she instructed. It was only a few minutes to reach the workshops from the training rooms and, like the last time she'd been there, there were very few others in the immediate vicinity. That was good; it meant they could work without dist—

" _There you are._ "

Aspen turned to face the source of the familiar voice. Unlike their previous encounters, Deirean was clothed this time, the garments likely stolen given their ill-fitting nature. In truth, he was not dressed all that dissimilarly to herself, wearing simple pants, boots, and a hooded jacket, though whether he wore anything underneath was unclear. " _Why are you here?_ " she asked in their shared tongue as Rhys turned around as well.

" _I am here for you,_ " the man answered, taking a step forward. Beside her, Rhys cocked his head as he stared at the man, his confusion palpable. " _As I said before, I have need of you._ "

Rhys tapped Aspen's arm to get her attention, signing, | _Why can't I read his lips?_ |

Aspen ignored him, focusing instead on her fellow rephaite. " _I am not going with you._ "

Deirean scowled, casting a derisive look at the faunus. " _That is what you told me yesterday, but you do not belong with these_ _ **animals**_ _."_

" _It is my choice._ "

More tapping. | _Aspen, why can't I read_ _ **your**_ _lips?_ |

" _You are foolish if you believe you can deny your koravah. When you give in—and you_ _ **will**_ _give in—the havneel will turn on you._ "

" _Perhaps, but there is more to learn from them._ "

 _Tap tap tap._ | _Aspen—_ |

The feeling of blood unexpectedly washed over Aspen, driving her back a step from its power. Rhys's reaction, however, was more severe. The faunus stumbled back and away from her, a look of terror on his face that was at odds with the complete lack of emotions she felt from him. She turned back to the man to see him sign, | _Be still, whelp!_ |

Baring her teeth, Aspen stepped between them and growled warningly. " _Deirean…_ "

The rephaim locked eyes, two sets of red eyes aflame with anger. Deirean hissed and Aspen could see his rage subside. " _There is indeed much more for you to learn, but it is not from them. They are_ _ **weak**_ _._ " He took another step forward, gesturing toward the still-petrified faunus. " _How can you want to stay when last night you attempted to kill this one and his friends?_ "

Aspen stepped forward to match him. " _ **You**_ _wanted me to kill them. I didn't. That_ _ **is**_ _my choice,_ " she repeated.

The two glared at one another, neither willing to back down. Eventually, the feeling of blood ebbed away as Deirean relented. " _As you say,_ " he said, beginning to step away. " _Stay if you desire, but you would do best not to reveal your true nature to anyone._ " He cast one last look at her. " _Should you require anything, find me, and w_ _hen the havneel do reject you, I will accept you._ "

As the man disappeared around the corner, Aspen felt Rhys's grip on her arm. Turning to face him, she could now feel his fear striking deep into her core. | _Who was that? Why couldn't I understand anything you were saying? What—_ |

Aspen's hands settled on top of the faunus's, silencing him. She wasn't sure why she did it, but it lessened the fear coming from his aura, so it seemed to have been the right thing to do. Pulling her hands away, she carefully signed, | _That was a personal matter. You do not need to be afraid._ |

Rhys frowned indignantly, and his fear soon evaporated as he huffed and crossed his arms. He looked past her at the corner before turning back to Aspen. | _Was that your father?_ |

 _Father…_ That was not a word Aspen had heard before. As was often the case, she understood the concept, even though it held no real significance to her. | _I do not believe we are related,_ | she signed, glancing back herself, | _though we do share blood._ |

Rhys frowned again, but shrugged. | _Okay. Can we go work on your armor now?_ |

(- -)

 _Foolish, naïve girl._

Deirean shuddered, standing alone amongst the ruins. It was easy to be blinded by arrogance, to believe that one's perspective was the only truth. That was what had led to the downfall of the rephaim, and he would not allow himself to fall into that trap. _She does not understand the world she lives in._ Others might have accused him of having committed to that flaw already, but he truly did know what was best. _Others…_

As far as he was aware, he and Aspen Gray were the last of their kind. No rephaite would have allowed the havneel to develop and spread as much as they had, even at the expense of their own lives. _Or the lives of our children,_ he added bitterly. Aspen Gray herself was young, a fraction of his age, and yet it was still impossible to gauge just how much time had passed. If he could find her havashah, perhaps he could narrow it down, and perhaps there would be others like her.

He would give her time, recover his own strength. Once she recognized that her place was not among the havneel, she would come to him and together they could find her havashah. From there, they could train and bide their time. If there was one advantage they had over the havneel, it was time.

A pressure began to build against the man's back, one he knew well. He hadn't yet adjusted to the unusually powerful signature many havneel now possessed, though it did allow him to sense them from a greater distance. There were two of them, their signatures growing more and more prevalent as they approached. Without warning, however, the pressure disappeared. _The pech ter'al._ While such an answer could have easily been the truth, there was something strange in the way they had simply vanished. It was almost as if he could still feel them, but his mind was ignoring the feeling. _Curious._ Maintaining his position, he turned to his other senses, waiting for any possible sign of danger.

He did not have to wait long. "So, this is what a true rephaite looks like. I can't say I'm disappointed." Deirean bristled at the sudden return of the two havneel's signatures, and slowly turned to face them. He was by no means intimidated but, until he knew how they had managed to hide themselves from his senses, he wasn't going to risk underestimating them.

Two females stood at the edge of the ruin, one clearly the superior of the other. She wore a red and gold garment that offered little protection, and neither did she appear to be armed, meaning she was either a fool or possessed some other, unseen means of self-defense. Her signature felt of filth and decay, and was more powerful than any he had felt before. The other appeared to be both younger and at least marginally equipped to face him, assuming the tools on her lower back were, in fact, weapons. If anything, however, her outfit offered even less protection of her vital areas. While not as powerful as the other woman's, her signature was complex, both abrasive and pointed with a waxy under layer.

The darker-haired woman—the one who felt of decay—had a smile on her face as she took a step forward. It was a deception, the type of smile intended to lure one in close enough to rip their throat out. "I trust you understand what I'm saying?" she asked.

Deirean bared his teeth. The havneel's current language was different than it was in his time but, even though he had only overheard a handful of conversations that day, he had learned it quickly. "Yours is a simple tongue," he responded, not hiding his disdain.

The fear and suspicion coming off the green-haired female was palpable, and her muscles were tense as one of her hands drifted to the weapons on her back. Decay held out her hand, stopping her associate's—perhaps unconscious—movement. "There's no need for hostility; I simply wish to talk."

While other havneel may well have found her voice to be appealing, it grated against Deirean's ears. "Speak then, before I rip your tongue out."

Decay's eyes narrowed as anger rippled from her signature, but she held herself in check. "I believe you and I share a similar goal: The destruction of mankind." Deirean almost laughed at that. As it was, a hushed rasp escaped his throat as he reevaluated the woman. Her eyes burned with conviction as she continued. "Humanity is weak, and has no hope of defeating the Grimm. Corrupt leaders call on blinded citizens to sacrifice their children for a doomed cause. They _deserve_ to die."

That situation sounded all too familiar to the rephaite. "And why do you believe I would aid you in your personal attempts at power?"

The woman gave him the same false smile she had before. "I don't want power." She took several steps toward him. "I know what you are. I know what Humanity has done to your kind." She stood directly in front of him now, hand reaching up to caress the side of his face. "We both want revenge, and I believe that working together is the best way to achieve it."

A hiss escaped Deirean's throat as he flexed his _presence_ , causing Decay to recoil and freeze. The cunning edge in her eyes was replaced by terror, a look shared by her subordinate at the outskirt of the ruin. " _Havneel vrikta!_ " he snarled. "I have seen your kind countless times over, latching onto the power of others to use as your own." Stepping to the side, he circled the woman. "You presume to know what I desire? You believe I would allow you to live? Mankind is not some child to be punished; they are a disease to be burned from the surface of this planet." Leaning forward until his face was mere inches from Decay's, he bared his teeth. " _And I will burn_ _every one of you._ " Releasing his _presence_ , he relished as true fear filled the two havneel. Backing away, he snarled. "Consider it a mercy that I do not kill you now." He turned and made to leave them behind him.

Before he could leave the ruin, however, a shrieking sound filled his ears accompanied by a fiery glow beneath his feet. _What is—_ He had barely recognized the pressure spike in Decay's signature when the circle exploded, engulfing him in flames. The pain was excruciating as his clothes burned, his flesh melted, and his blood boiled.

He couldn't remember feeling so _alive_.

Deirean spun and lunged at the woman, intent on ending her pitiful existence. Even in his current state, he was able to latch a hand around her throat and pin her to one of the still-standing pillars, in no small part due to the two havneels' surprise. As he squeezed, however, he encountered an unexpected resistance, accompanied by a pressure increase around Decay's neck. Growling, he began to lift his other hand, only for something cool to be pressed to his temple.

"Let her go."

In his periphery, Deirean saw Wax had drawn her weapons, one held against his head and the other closer to her body. Ignoring the demand, he curled his lip up to bare his teeth. "Do you truly believe you can kill me before I snap her neck?" he threatened.

The girl's eyes flitted to her superior, then landed back on him. A curious, glassy sound filled the air as his victim struggled in his grip. "I don't have to."

Decay's arm came up quickly, and Deirean jerked his head back too slowly. The attack aimed at his throat instead struck the underside of his jaw, but it still had the intended effect. Clutching at the arrow now pierced through his mouth and tongue, the rephaite staggered backward. Decay momentarily dropped to her knees, sucking in breaths and glaring at him in fury.

Before Deirean could recover, Wax opened fire with her weapons. The slugs struck him in the chest, arms, gut, and legs, and he collapsed forward onto the ground. As he struggled to push himself up, he sensed the two havneel flee into the woods, fear and anger perceivable even amidst the whirlwind of agony his own body was in. Ignoring the blood dripping down his body and pooling on the stones, he reached up and gripped the shaft of the arrow embedded into his mouth. With a guttural yell, he tore it out, uncaring of the flesh that came with it. He would heal; _they_ would not.

* * *

" **Fun" fact: The word "** _ **vrikta**_ **" roughly translates to "whore."**

 **This chapter was a bit of a pain for all sorts of reasons. The big one, early on, was because I couldn't figure out how to do the first scene. At first I had Ilex looking for Aspen, but that wasn't going anywhere. Then, I switched to Rhys and got a good ways in, but realized I was going to have to write scenes I didn't want to write if I did that. So, instead, I went for Oliver and, honestly, I think it works better for the chapter.**

 **The second scene was a pain because I had to do a bunch of things with it and I didn't have a great plan going in. The "student fight club" ended up being the outcome of that because… why not? Not all of those kids are going to fight in the official tournament, so they may as well make their own. There's also the matter of Deirean coming for Aspen. That bit ended up being a little shorter than I wanted, but I still think it turned out alright.**

 **As for why the final scene was a pain: Conniving Cinder is still difficult to write. Thank God there won't be more of that.**

 **Alright, that's it from me for now. Follow, favorite, review, nothing… Whatever strikes your fancy. Au revoir!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Boy, this is a doozy of a chapter. It's almost 7000 words long (a little under half of that being a single scene), and it's easily one of my favorites so far. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Carmine stared at his weapon, sitting untouched on his workbench. He'd been here for… how long, exactly? Hours, certainly. Perhaps even most of the day. He'd intended to spend it fine-tuning the new design, and yet intentions simply hadn't been enough to compel him to do so, buried as they were beneath a myriad of other thoughts and conspiracies.

 _Aspen…_ There was something… not right about her. He'd dissected this issue before, of course, but he'd only just been introduced before. Even with the short time she'd been on his team, though, he should have had the opportunity to make more observations and develop a stronger opinion of her. _Should have_ , yet there was some factor to who she was that eluded him.

When she did speak, it was often in short, clipped phrases with unconventional word choices. On top of that, there was something in the way she spoke certain words that made it sound as if she didn't actually know them, as impossible as that was, not to mention whatever " _vronon_ " was supposed to be. She'd said it meant "commander," but he was still skeptical. Theoretically, she was from Vacuo since she had come to Vale with Tawny and Mantis, and it was possible the word meant something to the people there. Come to think of it, she had seemed confused by that word as well, even before she defined it.

Truthfully, idiosyncrasies in the way Aspen spoke were hardly reason to be suspicious of her. It was the other things that raised alarms, such as the fact that she seemingly didn't use her Aura for defense. She was too fast and powerful to _not_ have one, meaning she must be focusing it into offense and, he supposed, healing. It would stand to reason, then, that that was why she didn't need any weapons and why she was intent on making her Grimm-bone armor. He wasn't sure if such training was even possible, but it was the only credible explanation. _That's not true, and you know it._ He frowned, looking down at his pant leg. _You just can't accept the alternative._

He'd stabbed her the day before; the blade of his knife had been covered in her blood. He clearly recalled wiping it off on his leg after she collapsed, and yet… Nothing. Within hours, it was as if he'd never done it. There was only one explanation to that, and only one conclusion that could be drawn from it. Thinking on it now, it made his blood freeze. It was impossible, yet he couldn't shake the feeling.

Standing, Carmine slid his chair in and quickly checked that he had his scroll. Thinking wasn't going to accomplish anything. He had to _act_ , and the only thing he could do with what he had was to bring it to Ozpin. It was only a theory and he had no proof, but with a potential threat like this, he had no other choice.

As he made his way across the lightly populated campus grounds, he gathered his thoughts, putting them in an order he could present to the Headmaster without sounding like a paranoid lunatic. Within minutes, he reached the base of Beacon Tower, but he soon found he wasn't the only person visiting Ozpin's office.

A man with graying black hair stood in front of one of the elevator doors, idly swishing the contents of his mug as he looked around. Though Carmine had never met the man, the tattered red cape he wore gave away his identity. Letting out a low, growling sigh, the teen moved to join him in waiting for the elevator. The man's gaze seemed to snap to him the instant he began moving, and Carmine almost paused at the Hunter'sblood-red eyes. When he did stop at the elevator, he crossed his arms, doing his best to ignore the man who smelled strongly of alcohol.

"Here to see Ozpin?" the Hunter asked, his gruff voice setting Carmine's teeth on edge.

"I am," he replied. "Not that that's any of your concern."

The man shrugged, taking a sip from his mug. "Maybe not, but I don't think he's expectin' you." The redhead stayed silent, not rising to the bait. "Y'know, 'cause he's expectin' me."

Carmine's hands balled into fists as the elevator dinged. "Good for you. I still need to talk to him." The man grumbled to himself as they stepped into the cab, standing to the side and letting the teen press the button to Ozpin's office. As the door slid shut, Carmine could feel the Hunter's eyes on his back and did his best to ignore it. He didn't know much about the man, but he knew enough. After a few moments, the elevator rumbled to life as it began its ascent.

"You're Cordon Embry's grandkid, right?" the Hunter asked suddenly.

The hairs on the back of Carmine's neck stood on end at the mention of his grandfather's name, and he didn't doubt his fellow passenger noticed. Instead of answering directly, he chose to deflect. "And you're Qrow Branwen," he said, effectively playing his only card. He just hoped it would get the man off his back.

It worked for a few moments, the Hunter obviously surprised that the teen knew his name. "So you've heard of me?" he asked rhetorically. Carmine didn't answer. "Good things, I hope?" This time, Carmine scoffed, knowing that the few things he did know certainly did _not_ fall in that category. Qrow made an amused sound. "Well, I could say the same of you." The teen pursed his lips, but held his silence. Fortunately, his grudging companion did the same, the only sound within the elevator being a single sip from the mug.

Eventually, the cab came to a stop and the door opened, freeing Carmine from his forced proximity with the gruff Hunter. Ozpin sat behind his desk, and it was only when the teen neared it that he turned around. The Headmaster looked over his glasses at his student. "Well, this is," his focus shifted to Qrow, who was stepping up beside the redhead, "unexpected."

Qrow held up a hand as if to protest his innocence. "Don't look at me. I didn't bring 'im."

Ozpin sighed quietly before looking back at the teen. "Mister Embry, what can I do for you?"

Carmine hesitated, casting a sideways glance at the graying Hunter. "I don't believe that he should be here—"

"May I remind you," Ozpin said, steepling his fingers together, "that you are the one interrupting." Carmine dipped his head in acknowledgement, though he didn't miss the smirk on Qrow's face as he took another sip from his mug. "Do you have something to add to your testimony regarding yesterday's events?"

The teen straightened up. "Not exactly, sir, and I don't think it's something that should be said in front of a stranger." He cocked his head slightly toward Qrow. "Especially not him."

A wry smile made its way across Ozpin's face. "Qrow is a trusted advisor. Anything you say here will be kept in the utmost confidence. Now please, continue."

Carmine fought the urge to scowl and acquiesced. "To be blunt, sir, I don't trust Aspen." The Hunter beside him snorted into his mug, muttering something about faunus and earning a glare from the redhead. "Any opinions I may or may not have on racial politics aside…" He took a breath to steady his unexpectedly fraying nerves. "…I don't think she's human _or_ faunus."

Immediately, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Qrow set his mug down on the desk, and Ozpin leaned forward. "And what do you propose she _is_ , then?" the Headmaster asked, his voice steely.

Carmine paused, simultaneously bolstered by the two men's reactions and discomposed by their sudden attention. He straightened up further. "I believe she is some sort of Grimm." His words were forced out, bordering on rushed. Qrow's expression was unreadable as he glanced down at Ozpin, while the Headmaster himself kept his eyes on Carmine. "I recognize that this sounds impossible, and that it is a serious accusation," he continued, attempting to get ahead of any further questions. "I don't have any hard evidence either, only observations of certain Grimm-like attributes."

"Continue."

The teen nodded once, obeying Ozpin's instruction. "There were a few, small things that made me suspicious at first—her inability to act properly in social situations, her difficulty forming words—but none of those are reasons to suspect her of being a Grimm." He paused at the Headmaster's raised eyebrow, but continued. "What _is_ worth noting is that, despite her apparent lack of Aura, she has the strength and speed to rival a trained Huntsman and can heal even faster."

"How do you know she hasn't got an Aura?" Qrow asked, picking up his mug again to take another sip.

Carmine eyed the man coldly. "Because I shot her."

The Hunter didn't even give him the satisfaction of choking on his drink. "Hmm. Y'know, there are better ways a' testing Aura."

The teen opened his mouth to retort, but Ozpin spoke first. "You mentioned that yesterday during your debriefing," he said calmly. "Have you considered the possibility that she _does_ have an Aura, but instead focuses it on enhancing her abilities, rather than defending herself?"

Carmine nodded. "Yes, sir, I have, but I dismissed the idea."

"Because it does not fit your narrative?"

Furrowing his brow at the accusation, Carmine kept his voice even. "Because it doesn't make any sense. It takes more Aura to heal wounds than to prevent them."

The man shook his head: Not in disagreement or disapproval, but in disappointment. It was a simple act that irked Carmine, and his own reaction frustrated him further. "There is still much we do not understand about the nature of Aura. From what I understand, Miss Gray was found in a desert, far from any form of civilization. With no weapons or supplies, it's entirely within the realm of possibility that utilizing her Aura in such a fashion was the only way to survive."

And just like that, the Headmaster had turned away one of Carmine's strongest points with nothing more than a hypothetical scenario. "What about the physical similarities, then? Red eyes? Black hair?" A small, indignant laugh from Qrow was the only response he got, and the teen knew he'd made a mistake. "Of course," he said quietly, responding to the unspoken comment. He sighed internally; how quickly everything had fallen apart. Taking a breath, he purged his frustrations and squared his shoulders. _I suppose I only have one leg left to stand on, then._ "As I said yesterday, I was able to hit her in the back with a thrown knife. After I pulled it out, I wiped the blood off on my leg, but by the time we got back to Beacon, the blood was gone."

Ozpin's face hardened, making Carmine wonder if he had struck Dust or simply made a further fool of himself. Resting his hands on the desk, the Headmaster rose to his feet. "Mister Embry: What I am about to say does not leave this room." A chill ran down the teen's spine. "You are to speak of it to no one and, if anyone asks, you know nothing about it. Am I clear?" Carmine nodded. He knew that tone of voice well enough to know what the consequences would be.

The man closed his eyes and tilted his head forward. "I accepted Miss Gray into my school because I saw something in her, something I have seen many times before: potential without direction. She has the blood of a warrior, but little control over it. What's more, she seems to be driving herself down a self-destructive path, with no regard for who she takes with it."

Carmine pursed his lips. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't see how this is relevant."

"You are aware that she attacked Team RWBY, correct?" The teen nodded, though he didn't miss the frown on Qrow's face. "Suffice to say that outcome of their battle might have been different had Miss Rose not been able to stop her. Unfortunately, like you, Miss Rose was not aware of Miss Gray's lack of defensive Aura and… Well, I suppose you can imagine the results."

The image of a wide, gray scar on pale skin entered Carmine's mind. He'd seen it when Aspen had taken her shirt off after being introduced—it had been hard not to—but only now did he know where it had come from. "Ruby stabbed her."

Both men grimaced, but neither confirmed it vocally; they didn't have to. "When I spoke with Miss Gray several hours later," Ozpin continued, "the wound had already begun scarring over. Her regenerative ability is remarkable, but believe me when I say that she was still covered in blood."

Carmine stiffened. _There was still blood?_ That… That didn't seem possible. Could it have still been evaporating? No, he'd said it had been hours, while the blood on Carmine's leg had been gone within a half hour. Surely, then, she wouldn't have been "covered" in blood, even after so much time. _Did Ozpin just lie to me?_ "Are you suggesting that I just imagined—"

Ozpin held up his hand, cutting the teen off. "All I am suggesting is that Aspen needs support more than she needs suspicion. Do you understand?" The two stared each other down in a battle of wills. It was a battle Carmine had no hope of winning.

The teen broke eye contact, looking down at the Headmaster's desk. "Yes, I think I do. Thank you for your time." Without another word, he turned and walked to the elevator. As the door shut and the cab descended, he clenched his jaw. Ozpin _knew_ that Aspen wasn't human or faunus, but he was hiding it. That was understandable; if people knew that there were humanoid Grimm capable of infiltrating one of the most respected establishments on Remnant, there would be panic.

That meant _he_ would have to keep an eye on her. If she lost control again, if she presented a threat to anyone else… He looked down at his hand. _**"He's not human; ergo, he's the enemy."**_ His fist clenched of its own accord as a cold chill ran down his spine. _**"Now do it."**_

(-)

 _Well, that certainly_ _ **was**_ _unexpected._ Qrow stood in silence as Ozpin sat back down into his chair. He'd known the Headmaster for a long time and, while he hadn't always been the most virtuous of men, he'd never done anything quite like this. _That I know of, at least._ Then again, that depended on whether or not the kid was right, and that Oz had lied to him. "Is it true?" he asked, knowing already that it was.

The gray-haired man sighed, turning to face out the large window behind his desk. "I trust you saw your nieces' fight?"

Qrow nodded, recalling the confused comments of the barkeeper when some random girl from the stands rushed the field and punched Yang. "Yeah. That her?"

"She arrived from Vacuo last week with a pair of Hunters. I had the same suspicions then as Carmine but, when I spoke to her, she seemed to have a genuine interest in fighting the Grimm. I had hoped that by accepting her into Beacon, I could direct her toward that."

"Except it's backfired on you," Qrow filled in, walking around the side of the desk. Sitting on the edge, he crossed his arms. "She the real deal?"

The man continued gazing out toward the horizon. "I have no doubt."

Qrow's heart sank. "Well… shit." He glanced down at what was left in his mug, shook his head, and set it aside. "So, my sister was right."

"It would appear so."

Reaching behind his back, the Huntsman pulled out his flask and stared at it. "Y'know, this is the first time in a while I've actually felt like I needed a drink." As he unscrewed the cap and took a swig, Oz turned to face him. "I s'pose this changes things," Qrow said, the soothing burn making its way down his throat.

"I imagine it does," Oz agreed, lifting his hand to cup his chin. "I expect our enemies know about Aspen as well and, if more of her kind exist, they may attempt to use them against us."

"It's an arms race," Qrow muttered. He looked up, not willing to let his earlier point go. "That's not what I meant, Oz."

The Headmaster sighed. "As I told Carmine, I trust you. I have for years, and I see no reason why this should change that."

Qrow let the words sink in. "Well, here's hoping it doesn't come back to bite you in the ass." Despite his cynical words, though, he was glad to have the man's confidence. Returning his flask to his back, he reached out for his mug again. "So, have you chosen your guardian yet?"

(-)

Grimm bones were not easy to work with. They were hard and impact resistant, yet far from indestructible. Somehow, all three of these traits worked against Aspen as she struggled to make her armor. She knew from the start that the plates would have to be modified before she could attach them to the leather base, but she hadn't considered how she would remove the excess material. As it turned out, shaping them to allow for free movement had been relatively simple, once she found the tools to do so. Even between the "bandsaw" and the grinding wheel, though, the task had still required much of her time the first day she had worked on the armor.

The problem she faced now was assembly. Chemical adhesives were not an option as none of the ones available were both strong enough to hold the plates onto the leather bases and capable of bonding to both materials, which meant the bones would have to be physically attached somehow. Rivets proved to be the solution she needed, but then there was the matter of putting the holes into the plates. A machine could do it easily enough— provided it was set to a low enough speed that it wouldn't shatter the bone in the process—but many of the pieces required holes in places that were inconvenient; these she had to drill manually.

Rhys had become even more enthusiastic on seeing the progress she had made, taking a particular interest in the rough design she had laid out. When he saw what part of the process she was in, however, he became… less enthused. _**|It's like watching paint dry.|**_ While Aspen didn't understand the purpose of such a task—doing so would not make the paint dry faster—she had felt his boredom and assumed he had simply been verbalizing it. Well... signing it. Eventually, he left to get food and hadn't come back. Though her reasons for allowing him to come in the first place remained unfulfilled, Aspen didn't mind.

Lifting a Nevermore face mask up, she carefully inspected the last of the holes she'd put into it. She blew away the dust that still clung to it, subconsciously flaring her nostrils with pride as she did. _Perfect._ Reaching to the side, she selected one of the flanged bushings she had laid out for herself. While there wouldn't be any rotational movement to worry about, there was something about the thought of applying the rivet directly to the bone that didn't sit well with her.

As she began to press the cylindrical piece of metal into the tight fit of the hole, an external wave of excitement washed over the girl and she glanced up to the source. Through building and trees and across a great distance, she could feel the great number of humans and faunus who had gathered in Amity Colosseum for more fights. Ilex had, again, asked her to come and, again, she had declined. Even when he tried to make a point about it being the "finals," she had refused. To her, the tournament had been an opportunity to prove herself capable of becoming a Hunter-student. She had done that, so what was the point of watching others fight? In addition to that, she was already in danger of losing her status, and losing control of herself during a fight wasn't a risk she wanted to take.

The excitement from the colosseum swelled. Aspen finished pressing the bushings into the Nevermore mask and lifted the corresponding boot. Lining them up, she made a mental note of where to make the holes in—

She stiffened as the mass of emotions suddenly shifted, turning to fear, shock, and dismay. She stood reflexively, looking toward the colosseum. Something… Something was _wrong._

(- - -)

" _Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for! The one-on-one finals!_ "

Yang looked out at the cheering crowd, many of whom, she was sure, were cheering for her. Despite the calm, confident demeanor she portrayed, her stomach twisted with nervous excitement. There she was, stood before a global stage with seven other fighters. They were the best of the best, having defeated each of their challengers and trusted by their teams to lead their schools to victory. It was a tremendous burden, and one Yang wouldn't dream of letting down.

" _Barty, why don't you explain the rules?_ "

As the two professors continued their banter and explanations, Yang looked down the line of students, silently wondering which one she would fight first. There were a few she wasn't wholly familiar with, though she had seen them fight and felt confident that she could beat them. Then there was Sun— _Heh, easy._ —Penny— _Boy, I would hate to put Ruby in the position to choose who to root for. Then again, I_ _ **am**_ _her sister._ —Mercury— _That would be an interesting fight._ —and last, but not least, an oddly nervous-looking Pyrrha.

Out of all of them, Yang hoped she would be able to fight the redheaded gladiator. She and Pyrrha had sparred in class before, of course, but she knew that neither of them had gone all-out. The thought of a no-holds-barred duel between the two sent both a thrill of excitement and a twinge of nervousness through the blonde brawler. She didn't want to lose, of course, but if she did, she could at least take solace in the fact that Pyrrha could take the championship for Beacon.

Doctor Oobleck's voice echoed through the colosseum. " _Ah, yes, yes! Now, let's see who our first match will be!_ "

Yang, along with everyone else in attendance, looked up at the view screens with bated breath. Two boxes blurred down each side of the screen, cycling through each of the finalists. The first one came to a stop with a _ding_ , revealing the first fighter a mere second before the second one did the same. The blonde smirked to herself; it was if the universe had heard her thoughts and given her exactly what she wanted.

" _Yang Xiao Long and Mercury Black!_ " Professor Port boomed over the speaker, drawing his words out.

Cheers erupted throughout the crowd, and as Yang glanced over to where she knew her team was sitting, she could see Ruby yelling something to her. Between the distance and the noise, however, there was no way she would be able to hear her. She cast one last look up at the screen. _This is it. It's really happening._

Port's voice filled the colosseum again. " _Would all other combatants please leave the stage!_ "

As the other students complied with the request, Yang quelled the butterflies in her stomach and turned to face Mercury. Even across the stage, she could see the familiar, cocky look in his eyes, and she smirked. A heavy guitar riff filled the air as they approached one another, the ground rumbling beneath their feet as the arena reshaped itself. _I guess if you're going to make it a show, you might as well make it a_ _ **show**_ _,_ she thought stopped around ten feet away from another, looking back at the crowd as a ring of lights floated into the air above them. One by one, they turned on, making sure that all eyes were on the two fighters.

Yang looked back at her opponent, returning to her calm confidence. "You better not go easy on me," she said, lifting her eyebrows and tilting her head back suggestively.

To his credit, Mercury took the taunt in stride. "You wish," he said with a dry laugh and a shake of his head.

The music began to fade, and the two squared up to one another. They each took a step forward, then another. Professor Port began to count down. By the time he got to one, the two fighter's hands were right next to each other. " _Fight!_ "

Yang wound back and punched, meeting Mercury's boot as they both fired. The shockwave pushed her back a few inches while her opponent leapt back. As soon as his feet were on the ground again, though, he was running forward. Anticipating the kick that was to come, Yang sprang up and flipped over his head. Mercury recovered from the missed attack quickly, already turning as the brawler landed on one foot. Red flame burst from one of her gauntlets, glancing off Mercury's side as the recoil spun her around.

The two were once again in hand-to-hand range, and Yang focused on blocking the other's attacks and looking for an opening. _Right-high, low, ther—no, duck. Now!_ Yang struck out, landing a hit on the gray-haired teen. He managed to land a hit on her as well, and they once again sent each other flying back. Springing into a handstand, Yang landed neatly while Mercury flipped into the air and came back down in a crouch.

Cocking her gauntlets, the blonde fired off several long-range shells, each one tearing up the ground where they impacted. Mercury moved quickly, using his boots to dodge out of the way and move closer. With one final blast, he propelled himself up, coming at her with a downward axe kick. Yang managed to lift her arms again, absorbing the impact on her gauntlets before pushing back up. She spun with a kick, hoping to sweep his other leg, but he used her push to help himself jump into the air. Coming back around, then, she fired where she expected him to be, only this time he had crouched down in front of her. In the vulnerable position she had put herself in, she was unable to prevent the counterattack.

Mercury's leg swept upward, catching her under the chin and knocking her up into the air. Frustrated and ignoring the pain, Yang flipped herself in midair just before she landed and, her feet barely on the ground, fired both gauntlets backward. Propelled toward her opponent by the blasts, she began firing as soon as she was in range. One, two, three, four hits landed as Mercury tried and failed to protect himself. Yang's assault only stopped as she sensed an attack coming. Turning, she brought her leg up for a high kick that matched his, but he, being the more skilled of the two when it came to using their feet as weapons, was able to draw his leg back in and knock out her supporting knee.

Yang clumsily fell into a somersault and stood, hearing the sound of Mercury's heel hitting the ground where she had been moments ago. She whirled around and crouched, both to avoid another attack and to knock the Haven student off-balance by striking the ground. He was still in mid-air, however, rendering the attack ineffectual. Landing on his hand, he used both legs to kick at her and knock her guard aside. The two rose to their feet simultaneously. Mercury spun once, twice, lifting his leg up on the second spin, trying to fool Yang into thinking he would continue the motion. As soon as she saw his leg stop and begin to twist, though, she cartwheeled. A few small pieces of debris managed to hit her as the ground exploded, but none of them were large enough to do any real damage.

In the next second, they exchanged a few kicks, none of which connected. Mercury eventually managed to throw Yang off-balance long enough for him to land a square hit on her defense. He landed in a near-split as she stumbled back, then spun himself back to his feet. _Show-off_. Yang grit her teeth and ran forward to meet him again.

Mercury swung at her with a mid-level kick, but she easily blocked it. Lunging forward she managed to get inside his guard and hit him with an uppercut that took them both into the air. Time seemed to slow down as Yang spun, giving her a chance, however brief, to relish in the move. She landed before her opponent and, firing off her gauntlet, elbowed him in the gut before immediately following it up with a shot-punch from her other hand. The attack sent the gray-haired teen backward, and he slipped and fell on his chest.

Getting a look of irritation from the Haven student, Yang smirked and began firing more long-range shots. Mercury managed to avoid several by backflipping away, but one quickly caught him and knocked him even further toward the edge—and _over_ it! Ring out! Yang's heart rose as the boy disappeared from her line of vision, only to sink again as he reappeared with a _boom!_ She pursed her lips as he flipped toward her. _He doesn't give up easily, I'll give him that._

Stepping back, the blonde focused on protecting her body from several high and low kicks from her opponent. She eventually managed to get a couple of shots of her own off, but neither of them even came close to hitting their mark. Ducking beneath Mercury's leg, she brought her guard up in time to intercept another kick aimed at her head. The blow sent her sliding back halfway across the arena, far enough away for her to dodge an air Dust round the Haven student had sent skipping across the floor. _Okay, that's new,_ she thought, eyeing the other teen warily.

With a smirk, Mercury lifted one of his legs and began firing more of the rounds, turning in a circle as he did. Dodging a couple that came her way, Yang noticed that the rounds actually seemed to be moving in circles around the arena, somehow compelled to maintain their paths. _Better finish this before he has a chance to do something with them._ Even as she ran toward him, though, Mercury continued firing, and it was only once she was in striking distance that he stopped. Angling her punch away from his body with his arm, he quickly pushed it the other way to make an opening for his own attack. Yang blocked the punch with her gauntlet, then the pair of kicks that followed. A third came after and, although it wasn't a direct hit, it was enough to make jumping backward the most viable option.

It was only when Mercury leapt up after her that Yang realized she'd made a mistake. Twisting himself in midair, he hit her with a kick that sent her flying back down onto the arena floor. As she bounced, the blonde looked up in horror as dozens of Dust rounds suddenly veered from their orbits and came straight at her. She pinched her eyes shut. As round after round impacted with her, she could feel her Aura draining and knew that she had lost. The thought stung the competitive fighter. She had—not deliberately—asked for this fight and now she got what—

 _Wait._ The match hadn't been called yet. Yang glanced up at the board. Sixteen percent! She was still in the fight! Through the smoke, she could see Mercury walking away, brushing dust off himself as if he had won. _Cocky bastard!_ Rising to her feet, the blonde drew on her Semblance in a powerful explosion of fire. _That_ got his attention. As the boy turned, Yang smashed her fists together, making herself burn even hotter.

Mercury's eyes widened in surprise as she launched herself at him, a single punch knocking him back a good ten feet. The blonde pulled her fist back. _Okay, Yang. Don't be stupid. One more hit and you're done._ Charging forward again, she ducked beneath a pair of kicks, making sure to catch the third fully on her gauntlet. Rising up, she connected a left hook across the teen's chest, briefly noting the look of panic on his face. She followed it up with a right, then another left. _Right, left, right, left._ Mercury staggered backward under the assault, but Yang didn't stop. With a punch to the gut and flash of gray, his Aura broke. Still frustrated, the blonde hit him once more in the face, sending him bouncing across the ground on his back. _For good measure,_ she thought, straightening up. She closed her eyes and let out a breath. _Okay, maybe it was a bit much. Still…_

Opening her eyes, she was greeted to the sound of cheers. She raised her fist and the arena began to descend, cementing her victory. " _Yang Xiao Long wins!_ " Oobleck announced over the speakers, causing another burst of cheers to erupt from the crowd.

Wiping away the sweat that had accumulated on her forehead, the blonde looked down at her opponent, still pushing himself up from the ground. "Better luck next time," she said before turning to walk away.

She had only made it a few steps before she heard him speak over the sound of the crowd, his voice dark with anger. "There's not going to be a next time, Blondie."

 _What's that—oh, no._ Half-turning back, she saw him flying at her, leg outstretched for a surprise attack. Scowling at the poor sportsmanship, Yang lifted her fist to retaliate… then stopped herself. The fight was over, and there was no reason for her to get herself involved in another, short as it would be. After her bout with Aspen she wasn't going to make that mistake any time soon. Lifting her other arm, she braced herself for the impact.

It never came. The instant "Mercury" contacted her, he disappeared from existence and reappeared a few feet away. Yang blinked in surprise. _Wh—what?_ She looked up at him to see an equally surprised look on his face. She growled, taking a step forward. "What the hell was that?!" she shouted. Mercury's face turned to panic, and he looked to his side at someone or something in the audience.

Yang followed his gaze, only for it to be blocked by a group of Beowolves. Yang instinctively took a step back, mind whirling as she tried to figure out what was going on. _How can there be Beowolves in the arena? That's impossible!_ Impossible, just like Mercury disappearing. _This isn't real_ , she told herself. Forcing herself to relax, she allowed the Grimm to leap on her. Unlike before, she could feel each one as they hit her, but they still disappeared on contact. She turned on Mercury, who was backing away in fear. "What are you doing to me? Why am I—"

"Yang!"

The blonde whirled around, her accusations forgotten at the panicked sound of her sister's voice. "Ruby?" Sprinting across the arena, the red-cloaked girl had a look of panic as she struggled to outrun a dozen more Beowolves. "Ruby!" Yang began to run toward her sister, memories of initiation flashing through her mind. Weiss had had to save the younger girl when Yang couldn't get to her fast enough, but now it was all up to her.

A part of the blonde's mind told her that this wasn't right—that there couldn't possibly be Grimm in the Colosseum— but her protective instincts took over as she dove into the sea of fur and fang with a yell. "You—" she shouted, a Beowolf disintegrating beneath her fist. "—can't—" Three more of the Grimm turned to smoke as she punched through them. "—have her!" Leaping back, she fired a flare at the spot she had just stood in. Four Beowolves converged on that point, only to vanish as the Dust round blossomed into flame.

Amidst the fury of combat, a sound reached Yang's ears. It was a sound that she never wanted to hear, and one that made her blood freeze and her heart stop. The wet crunch of bone and flesh yielding to vice-like jaws seemed to last an eternity as she turned. She dreaded what she would see, knowing it could only be one thing. A Beowolf crouched on the ground, jaws latched around Ruby's chest. The girl's face was twisted into a look of abject terror, distorted by confusion and betrayal as she met her sister's eyes. "Y—Yang…?"

Blood dripped from the Grimm's mouth as it released the girl's body. Ruby's lifeless form seemed to hit the ground in slow-motion, dust bouncing up from the ground as dead, silver eyes continued to stare up at Yang. A scream tore its way out of the blonde's throat, a mix of fury and despair clawing its way to the surface. Everything burned as she threw herself forward, wanting nothing more than to tear the beast apart with her bare hands. Like all the others, though, the Beowolf disappeared the instant she touched it with barely an impact to be felt.

Yang turned to look down at Ruby, who still lay where she had fallen. She… She was dead. _And it's my fault._ The blonde could feel the tears burning hot as they pooled in her eyes. Ruby was practically defenseless without her weapon, and she had come to her big sister for help. _How could this happen?_ Kneeling down, Yang cautiously reached a hand out toward the girl's still form, as if the mere act of touching her would make her disappear forever. To her horror, that's exactly what happened. Ruby faded from existence, without even a rose petal to mark her passing.

Yang couldn't bring herself to move, even as she sensed the Grimm surrounding her. Rage built up within her as she stared down at the spot where her sister—her _sister!_ —had fallen, never to rise again. She would make them pay. She would make them _all_ pay! One of the Beowolves began to move toward her, no more than a step, but that was all the provocation she needed. With a roar, she threw herself forward once more, fist impacting with the beast's chest with a satisfying _crunch._ It wasn't nearly enough. She may have been low on Aura, but she wouldn't stop until every single Grimm was dead.

Pivoting, she struck the one beside the first, feeling the give of the creature's hard skeleton as she hit it. Another Beowolf leapt on her back, one forearm wrapping around her chest as it clawed at her. Yang didn't flinch, firing over her shoulder in an attempt to remove the Grimm only for another to slam into her from the side. She screamed Ruby's name as she tried to free herself, only for something to strike the side of her head, causing her Aura to finally break. She looked up to see an Ursa towering over her, moments before darkness consumed her entirely.

(-)

Emerald slumped forward, bracing her head with one of her hands. Dizziness swept through her, brought about by her prolonged Semblance use. No, it wasn't about how long she'd used it, but how damned _complex_ it had needed to be. Forcing herself to stand up with the rest of the students around her, she looked down at the chaos she had wrought.

Xiao Long lay unconscious on the ground, the soldier who had tackled her before knocking her unconscious with the butt of his rifle now kneeling over his comrade. The man had bravely—if foolishly—attempted to subdue the girl by grabbing onto her and received a faceful of Dust for his trouble. Fortunately for him, his helmet had taken the brunt of the damage, though Emerald suspected the medics rushing out into the arena were more for him than Yang. The remaining Atlesian Knights stood motionless as they kept their weapons trained on the blonde, uncaring of the two droids from their number that she had turned to scrap.

The thief looked over at her partner, sitting on the ground. To anyone who might've been paying attention, it would have looked like he was trying to stay a safe distance away from Yang's outburst and, to be fair, he was. _Nobody_ was paying attention to him, however, everyone far too focused on the much more shocking and interesting arrest taking place. Mercury locked eyes with her, and she could see his scowl, even at that distance. She rolled her eyes, instantly regretting it as another wave of dizziness washed over her.

This had all been part of the plan. Not the original plan, of course, but Cinder had planned for all possible outcomes of this fight. In this case, Plan A had failed, so they'd moved on to Plan B. _**"If she doesn't bend to our will, we'll break her."**_

* * *

 **Had you all going there for a second, didn't I?**

 **For real, though, I am genuinely sorry about doing that to Yang. It actually got a little hard to write for a bit, there. Whether she's better off this way is up for debate, but this really is only the first in a series of ripple effects from Aspen's involvement in the story. Not all of the effects are going to be for the better.**

 **Other than that, this chapter was largely moving a few little things forward. Carmine's caught on to Aspen's secret and Qrow… Well, Qrow's got his own thing going on. Theorize if you like, but I'll be keeping quiet until I'm ready. Besides Yang's scene, my favorite scene was actually the one with Aspen working on her armor. The engineer in me had a lot of fun working out just how she'd go about doing that, balancing practical thinking with the way Aspen thinks.**

 **That's all for now. At the time of posting this, though, I'm going through a bit of a hiatus in writing. If I've timed this right, it hopefully won't affect the release of the next chapter; I just want to give you all a heads-up just in case. Au revoir!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Aaaaaaand I'm back! Ish. I finished this chapter a few weeks ago, but I've held off from releasing it so I could get a few things in order. At the time of writing this note, I technically haven't started actually writing again, but I wanted to at least put this out there.**

 **Quick warning going in for those who've been reading before this chapter was published: Certain things in this chapter might seem a touch off from what you would expect, though I don't really know if you'll even notice. As I said in my hiatus note, this story was frustrating me pretty badly and I wanted to reevaluate what I was doing with the story and characters. Basically, what that boiled down to was thinking about what was bothering me about them, figure out what I wanted to do to correct that, then go back and rewrite the previous chapters.**

 **Now, before you freak out, I didn't** _ **actually**_ **rewrite everything. All I really did was go back through and tweak some things here and there, and even then it ended up being less than I thought it would be. It gave me a good perspective on the story, though, that I hope will be a benefit in the long run. Anyway, most of what I changed was just character stuff, but there are really only two things of note: Aspen's fighting style is more brute force than outright mimicry (I was never really happy with that choice), and Ilex, while still a prick, actually has something resembling a motivation (though it still hasn't been fully revealed).**

 **That aside, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

 _Buzzing._

That was the only way Aspen could describe what she was feeling. The previous night had been calm, for the most part, after… whatever had happened, but when the morning came and the students began to wake up and all the other people began to arrive from the city, their emotions began to press against her in a way they hadn't before. Constant shifting and moving, pushing her in a different direction every second. It might have been easy to ignore if it hadn't been for the pain, like a thousand needles pressing through her flesh into her bones. Even then, though, it was all just a persistent distraction, something she could put aside with sufficient focus.

No, the true cause of Aspen's current woes was one person—one _single_ aura—calling to her from somewhere far away. She wasn't sure how far away they were, only that it was further than she had ever felt a single aura without straining before. She couldn't even tell who it was coming from, yet it tore away at her insides and left her feeling empty. It was strong enough to interrupt her meditation, and even now it pushed against her, urging her to come find it and snuff it out, to fill herself back up with its strength. She didn't want to.

So, Aspen had attempted to ignore it, setting herself to work on her armor. It wasn't until some time had passed that she realized she had only sat in front of it, teeth grinding against one another and hands curled tightly into fists. Her nails had dug into her palms, resulting in the fading black scars she bore now. That had been her breaking point. Casting her chair aside, she had rushed out of the room to trace the aura across campus. She could have gone out to the forest, gotten as far away from this person as she could until it just went away. She _should_ have done that; the closer she had drawn, the worse the feeling of emptiness got. Instead, she raced through halls and courtyards, ignoring the annoyed comments of those she brushed past on her search.

So it was that Aspen found herself in front of a door, fingers wrapped tightly around the handle. The door looked like most other doors in the school, but behind it was the aura that had been torturing her all morning, one that felt of still-warm coals of an old fire and the fine grains of a beach she had never seen. _Yang Xiao Long_. She wanted nothing more than to tear the door of its hinges and rip the girl apart, but— No, she didn't want that; she _craved_ it. There was a difference. She just… She just couldn't think of what it was at the moment. She need to… let go.

Releasing the handle with a _creak_ , Aspen backed away from the door. _Control._ She needed control. It took all of her strength just to back away, fighting the impulse to throw herself forward. _Why is this happening?_ Needed… something… real. Ground herself. Needed—

Whirling across the hall, the girl threw her fist into the opposite wall. The stone fractured and something in her hand broke, pain shooting up into her arm as she slumped to her knees. _**Real**_ _pain._ She focused on that, using it to tether herself and clear her mind. _I know this hall._ She stood up again, looking around as her bones healed themselves. Just a few doors down had been where she'd been taken after her fight with the Ruby Team. _Why is Yang up here? And why is—_

The door opened inward with a click, and a man stepped out. Under Yang's overpowering aura, she hadn't sensed him, but now that she was more aware of her surroundings, she could feel him as well, like feathers and rust. He was around Oliver's height, with graying black hair pushed back over his scalp. She stopped on his red eyes. _Could he be rephaim?_ No, it was impossible; he had an aura. Neither she nor Deirean had one—not like the humans and faunus, anyway. And yet…

The man eyed her suspiciously and, behind him, Aspen could see Yang sitting at a table, much like she had before. Noticing where her attention had drifted, the man reached behind him and pulled the door closed. As it clicked shut, he looked down at the handle beneath his grip and Aspen followed his gaze. The metal was warped and dented, and she knew it had been because of her. The man let out a soft "Huh" before turning his head back to her. "So, you're Aspen?" Aspen narrowed her eyes but nodded, unsure how he knew her name and finding it difficult to maintain her focus as the pain in her hand receded.

The feathery man reached up to scratch at the hair on his jaw, glancing down the hallway. Aspen was vaguely aware of the man's uncertainty and suspicion, a minor stinging compared to everything else she was feeling. She looked back at the door. There was so much _pain_ —so much fear and loneliness—that she felt like she was drowning in it. Was that possible? She felt like it might've been.

"Hey, did you hear me?" The man was snapping his fingers in front of her face, and she immediately swatted them away. How long had she lost focus for? Not long, she guessed. "I asked you what you were doing here." His eyes were hard, accusing. He wasn't mad, though, not really.

Aspen lowered her gaze to the floor, gritting her teeth as a wave of heat tore through her body. "I… I want the pain to stop." Blood pooled in the palms of her hands, fingers unconsciously digging into her still-fresh scars.

She felt the man's gaze move over her, then heard him sigh. "C'mere," he slurred, heading for another door not far from the one Yang was behind. Latching onto his aura to ground herself, Aspen followed after him, reaching out to determine who might be in this second room. She needn't have bothered, as the feathery man opened it before she could identify anything substantial besides the fact that there were two people there. It was so hard to focus…

She knew the first man, and seeing him did little to improve Aspen's mood. Ozpin had one eyebrow raised as he glanced between her and the feathery man, his chalky aura already leaving her skin feeling dry. The other person was someone she hadn't met before, a tall, black-haired man dressed in white and gray with a strip of metal embedded into the flesh above his right eyebrow. His aura felt like a weathered stone wall, cracked and broken with age. His blue eyes narrowed as he focused on her. "Crow," he said carefully, "what is she doing here?"

Crow, as he seemed to be named, crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Found her standing outside. Seemed a little… _overwhelmed_ by all the emotion, so I figured I'd bring her over rather than just leave her out on her own."

Ozpin tilted his head back for a moment before bringing it forward again in a nod. "I see. Thank you, Crow." The feathery man huffed and looked away, while the Headmaster turned his attention to the rephaite. "Aspen, this is James Ironwood," he said, gesturing toward the stony man who was looking down at her impassively. "James is the Headmaster of our sister school in Atlas, as well as a General in their army."

 _Sister?_ Aspen briefly wondered how a school could have siblings, but the thought was quickly drowned out by the pain from Yang's aura. The men continued talking in the background, but all she heard was something about 'Qrow with a Q.' _I shouldn't… I shouldn't be here. I need to leave—_

Her trance was interrupted as a hand gently touched the back of her shoulder. She jumped, pulling away just enough to break contact. Crow— _Qrow_ still held his arm out, a complicated frown on his face. He was surprised, uncertain, but also… concerned. Red eyes scanned over her, as if inspecting her for weakness. Red eyes so much like her own, like Deirean's…

"Perhaps we should continue this somewhere else?" Ozpin said.

James took a step forward. "Ozpin, I know you said this girl was special, but there are more important matters at hand. If there's something you're not telling me…"

The chalky man sighed. "Of course. If she is to be believed—and I see no reason why she should not be—Aspen has the ability to sense a person's emotions; feel their soul, if you will. Unfortunately, as I understand it, these emotions cause her a great amount of pain and can compromise her ability to act rationally. With Miss Xiao Long in the state she is, I imagine Miss Gray is currently in a great deal of distress. Is that correct, Aspen?"

Aspen, having found herself staring through the wall to where Yang sat in the other room, turned her head to look at the man. His eyes were honest, and she could feel no deceit in his aura. Then again, she knew everything he had said to be true, so it was less about honesty than it was about intent. With her mind as fogged as it was, she couldn't think of any alternative meaning to his words, so she simply nodded. _**Distress**_ _…_

Despite the explanation, however, the Headmaster from "Atlas" didn't move. "That still doesn't answer my question."

Aspen didn't recall him asking a question, but Ozpin didn't seem to pay attention to that matter. "I understand your concerns, James, but I'm afraid there simply isn't the time for a thorough explanation right now, and this certainly isn't the place. Whether this incident was caused by stress or somehow perpetrated by our enemies, festival security should be our top priority. Should something like this happen again, it could prove disastrous." James's posture relaxed, just enough to show his acquiescence, and Ozpin looked to Qrow. "I'm sure Miss Xiao Long is as anxious to see her team as they are to see her. For the time being, though, I think it would be best for her to stay in her dorm room, and I'll have Glynda send someone to speak with her."

On Ozpin's lead, the men began to file out of the room, revealing a screen behind the General. As Aspen looked at it, she could see that it showed the room Yang was in. She had her head down on the table, and her body seemed to be shaking. Amid the golden locks, Aspen could make out a pair of cuffs similar to the ones she had worn, albeit not attached to the girl's wrists. Two armed men stood on either side of the door, weapons drawn but not aimed at Yang. It was all too familiar to Aspen, and the hair on her neck began to stand on end.

"Aspen." The girl tore her eyes away from the screen to look at the source of the voice. Ozpin stood outside the room, one hand on his cane and the other extended toward her. "If you could come with me, please."

Aspen wasn't sure how she ended up in the hallway, only becoming aware of it when the pain from Yang's aura suddenly receded to be replaced by a feeling of warmth. Stopping in her tracks, she turned to look behind her. Several doors down, she saw Qrow escorting Yang from her room. Lilac eyes met crimson and, in that instant, Aspen felt weightless. It was as if all the pressure she had been feeling since Vacuo suddenly vanished, taking all her strength with it.

Grief and hope. In some ways, such contrasting emotions. One an expression of loss and sorrow, the other an expectancy of better things to come. How the two could coexist in a single person confounded the rephaite and yet, as she looked into Yang's eyes, that was all she could see. When she looked back, much later, Aspen would realize that this was the moment when her understanding of life began to change.

Said moment didn't last long, and soon Qrow and Yang were moving away from her. Aspen stood dumbly as the pressure of hundreds of auras slowly crushed back down on her, bringing with it the piercing pain in her bones. Finally working up the strength of will to look away from the duo, she began walking in the opposite direction. Beside her, Ozpin matched her gait as she had suspected he would, but he surprised her by not speaking as he'd implied he'd wanted to. "What happened last night?" she asked, finally breaking the not-particularly-comfortable silence. If anyone would be able to tell her, it would be Ozpin.

Unfortunately, his first answer was far from satisfactory. "I had been hoping you would be able to tell me." Aspen furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the man, but was surprised to see his lips drawn in a tight line. "To be honest, we're still putting the pieces together ourselves. Following her match last night, Miss Xiao Long began acting rather… _erratically_ , yelling and striking at thin air and suffering an apparent emotional breakdown. When it became apparent that she posed a threat to the other contestant, security stepped in to subdue her and, unfortunately, she lashed out at them as well."

He paused to look out a window, and Aspen joined him, though she didn't see anything of note. "Qrow had just finished speaking with her when you arrived. We had hoped to shed some light on the situation, but her testimony only raised more concerns." Aspen felt a brief spike of worry from the man, but it quickly faded into the background, remarkable given their proximity. "According to her, she saw Grimm in the arena and, what's more, she saw one of them kill her sister."

 _Blood flowing down rows of stands._ A chill fell over Aspen as she recalled her hallucination just days before. _Thousands of corpses, dead at her hands._ She dug her nails into her hands once again, using the pain to block out the memory. "Why did you think I would know anything about it?"

Ozpin hummed thoughtfully. "I had simply wondered if you had felt anything unusual, whether with Miss Xiao Long or someone in the audience."

"No, I wasn't there," Aspen said, massaging the ragged black fibers in her palms. "All I felt was… I assume it was when she began acting 'erratically.' The entire coliseum, all their emotions… turned."

"I see." Silence fell once again. Closing her eyes, Aspen took the opportunity to probe Ozpin's aura. It was unusual just how little emotion she sensed in it for how powerful it was, almost as if he wasn't feeling anything at all. That was a possibility, she supposed, though as she considered it, it seemed more likely that he was suppressing them. The worry he'd felt had been intense, but short-lived. If that was what he was doing, then why?

"Aspen, I'm afraid I must ask a favor of you," Ozpin said, breaking the girl out of her thoughts. She felt remorse in his aura, though it soon vanished as his worry had before. "I can understand your reluctance to return to the colosseum, but I would like for you to attend the finals tonight."

A quiet hiss escaped Aspen's throat as she crossed her arms. "You want me there so see if I feel anything 'unusual.' You want to _use_ me."

Ozpin sighed, a sound of frustration echoed briefly in his aura. "I wouldn't put it quite so _bluntly_ , but yes." The man straightened up and looked her in the eyes. "You may not be aware of this, but the creatures of Grimm are attracted to negative emotions. Assuming your experiences extend to them, it may be more accurate to say that they are driven to snuff those emotions out, as you are. If another incident like yours or Miss Xiao Long's occurs, it might become too much for them to resist and cause them to attack."

Black hair fell from Aspen's shoulder as she looked away. _He knows the Grimm are rephaim._ She suddenly felt small, in much the same way as she had when she first met Deirean. She didn't like it. "We'll kill them."

"I wish it were that simple," Ozpin replied. He paused, nodding to a pair of passing students. The two briefly looked at Aspen and the Headmaster before continuing on, their nervousness stinging her skin. Once they were further away, the man continued. "Most of the people here for the tournament are civilians and have neither combat training nor unlocked Auras. Even with the number of Hunters and students that are here, it would be a slaughter if the Grimm attack. That is why it is our duty as Huntsmen and Huntresses to do whatever it takes to _protect_ them, even if it requires sacrifice."

Aspen kept her head down. _Unlocked?_ She wasn't sure what that meant in context, but she could guess. From what she could tell, Aura was the protective barrier humans and faunus used to keep themselves safe when fighting and, now that she thought about it, the ones who fought almost always had a stronger aura than the ones that did not. It stood to reason, then, that what she called aura was, in fact, the same Aura the humans referred to, and that this Aura had to be "unlocked" somehow.

"I think we both know we don't trust each other," Ozpin continued, despite her unwillingness to look at him. "Heaven knows we haven't given each other a reason to do so. My mistake was attempting to exploit your flawed understanding of what it meant to be a Huntress. You are a living being with free will, not some tool to be wielded against the Grimm, and I was wrong to treat you as such." Aspen lifted her head at the admission, watching as the man moved to stand in front of her. "You have great power, and what you do with that power is up to you, but I have a responsibility to protect my students from anything that might pose a threat to them, and that includes you."

 _Protect_ …

"I'll do it." Aspen squared her shoulders, looking Ozpin in the eye. "I want to be stronger. I want to _learn_. If this is what I need to do to learn how to be a Huntress, then I'll do it, but you have to do something for me."

The man's brow arched inquisitively. "And what might that be?"

"Don't tell anyone what I really am."

Ozpin's posture shifted, all at once tensing and relaxing as he straightened. Lifting his free hand to his chest, he bowed forward ever so slightly. "You have my word."

Inexplicably finding herself uncomfortable with the gesture, Aspen turned away and crossed her arms again. "What do I do if I feel anything… 'unusual'?"

"General Ironwood is in charge of tournament security," Ozpin explained. "If anything seems out of the ordinary to you, call him on your scroll. I'll have his contact information added and notify him of our arrangement. Beyond that, you need not take any action." Aspen just nodded; it seemed simple enough. After several seconds of silence, the Headmaster hummed to himself. "Well, if you don't have any other questions, I have other matters I must attend to." He began to walk away but stopped after several paces to look back at her. Aspen met his gaze, taking note of the concern that lingered in his Aura. "Thank you, Aspen, and please keep yourself in check."

With a small huff, the girl turned to look out the window. There still wasn't anything of note, but it did offer her an opportunity to focus on her thoughts. Huntressess… They killed Grimm, yes, but that wasn't their job; their job was to _protect_ people. The idea struck her as odd, and it took some digging through her own mind to realize why. To the rephaim, strength was paramount. To survive, one must be able to protect themselves, and so to require protection would mean death.

Things seemed to be different among the humans, though. Strength was consolidated among a small portion of the population, and this portion was dedicated to defending those without strength. It was a curious system that ran counter to the one that had been imprinted in her body and made little sense. Then again, there were millions of humans and faunus, and the rephaim numbered only two. Perhaps Mankind had done something right.

Releasing a breath, Aspen turned away from the window. She had a task to complete, and it seemed to her that beginning it as soon as possible would be in her best interest. There was only one problem:

 _How do I get to the colosseum from here?_

(-)

Ilex leaned against one of the great stone pillars surrounding Beacon's main courtyard as his eyes roved over the faces of the other students passing through or otherwise milling about. Eventually he settled on a shorter girl with pale blonde hair, her gray-and-white uniform identifying her as a student from Atlas. She was walking alone, and the way she was looking more at the architecture than the other people indicated that that wasn't going to change. _Well, not unless I change that._

Smirking to himself, Ilex straightened up and began walking toward his mark, only to be roughly grabbed by the arm as Carmine passed and dragged in a different direction. The faunus nearly yelped in surprise, hiding the unbecoming sound by clearing his throat. "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, prying his arm free of his partner's grip.

Carmine stopped to scan the area as if searching for something. He didn't even look at Ilex. "Do you know where Aspen is?" he asked, tone none too friendly.

Rubbing his arm, the white-haired teen eyed the other suspiciously. While he wouldn't normally give a second thought to Carmine acting like an ass, there was something about him that seemed just a little off. "What makes you think I would?" he asked in response, intentionally not answering the question.

The human turned his gaze toward him, eyebrow raised in incredulity. "You're obsessed with her," he said, hands turning outward by his sides as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I know you well enough to seriously doubt that you've just given up on trying to get her to acknowledge you with something other than aggression."

Ilex's mouth fell open at the accusation though, truth be told, there wasn't much he could do to argue against that point. "I am _not_ obsessed with her!" he said indignantly. Carmine's eyebrow raised just a little higher, making the faunus realize just how loud his words had been. Glancing around at the few heads that had turned his way, he lowered his voice. "And I certainly don't need her validation."

Pale orange eyes rolled in their sockets as Carmine huffed in annoyance. "Gods, I already regret asking. Now, do you know where she is or not?"

With a grimace, Ilex turned his head away to avoid his partner's gaze. It would be easy just not to tell him, but he was just a little too curious to know what Carmine wanted with Aspen. "Fine," he grumbled. "She came by here a little while ago, heading toward the ferries to the colosseum."

"The colosseum?" the redheaded teen repeated skeptically. "Why would she be going there?"

"I don't know!" Ilex said defensively, gesturing with one hand to where he'd seen the vexing girl. "I would have asked, but as soon as I started walking toward her she looked at me this… look." It was a bit of a lie; he hadn't been planning on asking her why she was heading that way.

Carmine's eyebrow rose again. "Since when have girl's giving you a 'look' ever stopped you?"

Ilex shook his head. "You didn't see this one. It was…" He flexed one of his hands as he tried to think of the right word. "… _benign_."

The human sputtered. "Be—Do you even know what that word means?"

"Of course I know what it means!" Ilex snapped, crossing his arms. "That's what it was! Angry or neutral I could get, but this…" His eyes lost focus for a moment as he recalled the image, subconsciously biting his lip. "I swear, it was almost a smile." Sure it probably sounded ridiculous—the disdainful look Carmine was giving him seemed proof enough of that—but even just remembering it made the hair on the back of his neck and ears stand on end.

Carmine stared at him in disbelief for several seconds, mouth agape, before shaking his head with a growl. Without a word, he turned and began making his way toward the docks. Glad to be rid of his partner, Ilex turned to look for the girl he'd scouted out before. He was disappointed to see she had joined a small group of girls on the opposite side of the courtyard, one of whom he recognized. _Damn it, Carmine,_ he growled to himself.

Even as the thought crossed his mind, however, another took its place: Why _was_ Aspen going to the docks? She had shown zero interest in going to the tournament since they'd met, even when Rhys asked her. So what reason did she have to go _now_ , then? Certainly not the finals; those had started last night and she had spent the evening working on her armor. The question nagged at him more than it should have, and eventually he relented and turned toward the docks. _**Damn it**_ _, Carmine!_

They hadn't been separated more than a minute by the time Ilex decided to go after his partner, but it still took him a few more to catch up again. He found Carmine sitting on a bench, toying with his fancy goggles as he looked out at one of the docked ferries. Easing himself into the space next to the teen, Ilex squinted his eyes as he looked out to the same spot. Even with his keen vision, they were far enough away that he had difficulty making out faces, but Aspen's figure was easy enough to make out, as was the red cloak of the girl she was talking to.

He hummed to himself, finding it interesting that Aspen would be talking to Ruby Rose, of all people. Rather, he supposed Ruby talking to Aspen was the better way to put it. If rumor was to be believed, Aspen had wiped the floor with Team RWBY when she crashed their tournament match, so Ilex wouldn't have expected them to be on friendly terms. More than that, though, he wouldn't have even expected her to be going back to the colosseum so soon after what had happened the night before.

"And here you said I was the one obsessed with Aspen," Ilex said, breaking the always-tense silence with his partner. "At least I have the decency not to stalk the girls I go after."

As the faunus expected, Carmine's mouth curled into an offended snarl. "I'm _not_ stalking her," he said, keeping his voice low.

"Funny, 'cause that's what it looks like from here. I'm betting you've got a magnification setting in those goggles, don't you?"

The human's lips thinned to a taut line. "I don't have to explain myself to you," he said, trying to avoid the subject.

 _Unfortunate for him._ Leaning in, Ilex crossed his arms. "I disagree. You see, it kind of feels like you're butting in on my shtick." The comment managed to elicit a surprised glance from the redhead, and Ilex hid his internal grimace with a smirk. "I'm not dumb. I've got my reasons for what I do, but your thing is being a racist asshole. Last I checked, Aspen was human, so the question is, why are you suddenly so interested in her?"

Carmine continued to fix his partner with a sidelong look, somewhere between disdain and, dare Ilex say it, respect. After several moments, the redhead turned back to the ferries. "I don't think she's human," he said simply.

Rolling his eyes at the answer, Ilex sat back into the bench. A minute passed, and Aspen and Ruby were still talking to one another. "You know what they're talking about?" he asked.

A rush of air escaped Carmine's throat as he reached up to fiddle with his goggles, likely to adjust the magnifying zoom. "I don't know; I can't read lips. Where the hell is Rhys when you need him?"

Ilex knew it was a rhetorical question, but he couldn't help but give a suggestion, if just to prod the human a little bit more. "Probably…" he trailed off, eyes flicking over the crowd before settling on a familiar, raggedy shape. "Oh, right there," he said, pointing to the otter faunus. Carmine's head turned slightly to track him, and the two watched as their teammate walked up to Aspen and signed something. "What'd he say?" Ilex asked, not able to make out his hands.

Had he not asked, he figured he still would have gotten his answer as Aspen raised her arm and pointed directly at the two of them.

"He asked if she knew where you were," Carmine said with a hard edge of frustration.

Ilex frowned. _How did she know we were over here?_ It wasn't as if they stood out among the other students, but she hadn't even hesitated to point at them. Had she actually seen them sit down from that far away? Maybe Carmine was right about her being a faunus after all…

With a sigh, the white-haired teen rose to his feet. "Well, it seems we've been made," he commented dryly. "Might as well head on over." He didn't bother to check if his partner followed suit as he made his way toward the dock, but the growl behind him suggested he had.

By the time they'd crossed about half the distance, Rhys had given up waiting and had run over to them. Ilex brushed him off as he attempted to ask a question, focusing instead on the situation he was walking into. Through the hair dangling in front of her face, Aspen fixed him with a cautious stare, hands in the pockets of her hoodie. It was almost reassuring, though Ilex could already feel his hairs standing on end again.

On the other hand, Ruby was glancing nervously between the four of them, and the faunus could guess why. Team RWBY had always existed in its own little world with Team JNPR, and while their interaction wasn't entirely exclusive, there wasn't much deviance. On top of that, it was easy to forget that Ruby was practically still a kid—a year younger than even Rhys—and while his teammate had no qualms about getting in people's faces, Ruby had always struck Ilex as the socially-awkward type.

Being at the forefront of the arriving party, the lemur faunus decided to take the initiative in the conversation. "Hey, Aspen," he said, flashing a smile at the girl. Her lips tightened into the beginnings of a scowl as she narrowed her eyes. "What're you up to?"

Aspen's expression actually softened at the question and, for a moment, she actually looked confused before refocusing her gaze. "I came here to go to the tournament," she explained, confirming his theory. "Ruby was here, and we started talking."

Turning his eyes to the younger girl, Ilex gave her a gentle smile. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd considered her for his… purposes at one point in time, but he'd decided that, as effective as she would be, involving her would go far beyond overkill. So, he kept himself respectable, as his parents had taught him. "Ruby Rose, right?" he asked, receiving a timid nod in return. "I don't believe we've ever been formally introduced." He extended a hand toward her as if to shake but, when she reached out her own, he took it by her fingers and lifted it once before releasing it. It was a little trick he'd picked up from his father, a way to subtly boost someone's perceived status by treating them like the royalty of old. Judging by Ruby's surprised expression, it had worked. "Ilex Jae; I'm on Aspen's team."

"Oh, r-right," Ruby stammered, glancing toward said girl whose expression had once again shifted to a mild confusion. If Ruby noticed, she didn't call attention to it. "She told me she had been put on a team, I just didn't realize it was you guys." Leaning around Ilex, she gave a small wave to the other faunus. "Hey, Rhys," she said, signing the "R" he used as the sign for his name. The faunus grinned and returned the greeting, and Ruby straightened up again. "So, what's your team name?"

Ilex opened his mouth to answer, but was only drawing a blank. "I don't…" He looked up as if to find the answer in the sky before turning to look at Carmine, who just shook his head. "We don't…" Ilex brought his gaze around to Aspen, but she just stared at him blankly. "We haven't been given a name yet," he finally answered. "The last few days have been a little… unusual."

Something changed in Ruby's eyes as she nodded dumbly, turning her gaze ever so slightly toward Aspen. "I kinda got that…" Interestingly enough, the older girl seemed to be avoiding looking at anyone, head tilted down to the ground.

Ilex frowned, unsure of what had just happened to elicit this sort of response. It _sounded_ like Aspen had told Ruby what she had done in the forest, though why she had and why she seemed to be uncomfortable now were a mystery to him. The silence was starting to become uncomfortable, so the faunus spoke. "How's your sister doing?" he asked, hoping the topic wasn't too fresh.

Ruby's expression didn't change much as she lowered her eyes to the ground. "She says she'll be alright, that it was just stress, but… I don't really know for sure." Squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled her hood over head in what must have been an anxious habit. "I should go back to be with her. I shouldn't have left…"

Ilex's ears twitched agitatedly as he bit his lip. This was _not_ the route he'd wanted the conversation to go down. _Great. Now what do I_ —

"Why did you, then?" Aspen asked suddenly, easing the burden of the conversation from Ilex.

The question was simple and perhaps a bit too forward, so the white-haired teen was shocked when it actually seemed to do the trick. Ruby's hands slipped from the fabric of her hood, allowing it to fall back as she lifted her head again. Her gaze wasn't focused on anything in particular, but Ilex couldn't help but note that it was directed back toward Beacon—toward Yang. "She didn't want me worrying over her." Her voice was quiet, but steady. "She said that she wanted me to enjoy myself and support my friends."

With a reassuring smile, Ilex rested a hand on her shoulder. "In that case, why don't we all head up and watch the tournament together?"

Ruby brightened and returned the smile. "We should probably get going then," she said, turning to head toward the ferry with Rhys.

Ilex took a moment to watch the pair, satisfied that he'd been able to help, even if just a little, before realizing that Aspen was still standing in front of him. Crimson eyes continued to fix him with a look of confusion and curiosity, bringing back his feeling of unease. He ignored it this time and flashed a smile at her, only for her to frown and walk away. "What?"

* * *

 **Now that this chapter is done…**

 _ **Uggghhhhh**_ **this one was such a pain in the ass to write. I've scrapped scenes halfway through or changed their direction before, but this chapter… I literally have a document with everything I wrote for this chapter that didn't make the cut, and it's long enough to be its own chapter. Hell, most of that was a completely different version of this chapter, so that should give you an idea for why I wanted to rewrite everything.**

 **Yeah, not much else right now. Trying some new stuff with how I write, see how that goes. Also, calling Ironwood by his first name is just… unnatural, but that's what Aspen would do, so consider the bullet bit.**

 **Hopefully, it won't be a painfully long time before the next chapter comes out. Until then, au revoir!**


	17. Chapter 17

_Laurel felt… Well, she didn't know what she felt. Anger? Embarrassment? Betrayal? He said it had been a misunderstanding—that he'd been drunk, that he thought it had been her—but that didn't make it okay. She couldn't imagine it ever being okay. By someone else's standards, he probably hadn't done anything wrong, at least so far as nothing was actually done. It had exposed a side of him that she'd never seen before, however, and it frightened her. So, she broke up with him._

 _What else is a woman supposed to do when her boyfriend tries to push himself on her twin sister?_

Laurel sat reclined in her chair, eyes unfocused and fingers resting idly against her chin. Her scroll sat propped up on her desk in preparation for the tournament. The one-on-one fights wouldn't start for a few minutes, so she had no problem leaving it muted until then. The problem with that, though, was that she was left alone with her thoughts, and lately her thoughts had been on the past.

A light knock on the door brought her out of her trance. Rising from her seat with an exhale, she padded across the room and opened the door. She was unsurprised to see it was Oliver on the other side. "I'd been wondering where you were," he said, giving her a weak smile.

Laurel stepped back to let him in, scratching her hairline. "Yeah, it's just…" She waved her hand exasperatedly. "After all those stupid administrative meetings today, I don't really want to be around people for a while."

Oliver's lips drew into a tight line as he closed the door behind him, head dipping down. "Right." Laurel walked back to her chair and dropped herself into it again. Following slowly after her, Oliver glanced toward her desk. "Having a drink?" he asked, gesturing the bottle of wine and glass beside her scroll.

Laurel spared the unpoured drink a tired look. "Not yet," she answered, turning to give her partner a dull look. "Don't really know that I want to now." Oliver grimaced at her words, and Laurel cringed as well when she realized how he must have interpreted it. "What did you want?" she asked, trying not to come off as overly dismissive.

Oliver didn't say anything for a moment, eyes on the floor as he sat down on the edge of her bed. "I wanted to apologize," he said finally, "for dragging you into all of this." He lifted his hand toward her, waving off a rebuke that wasn't going to come; she was too tired for that. "I know it was your decision to come along and keep an eye on Aspen, but… this wasn't how I wanted this trip to go."

Laurel leaned her head back. "I did try to warn you about her."

"I'm not talking about Aspen." She rolled her head over to look at Oliver, curious. He was scratching at the hair under his lower lip, the way he did when he was trying to figure out the _exact_ wording he wanted to use. "I was planning on bringing you out here for the tournament before we even found her. I knew you'd been wanting to go for a while, and I wanted to do something special." His eyes dropped at the admission. "I guess, as foolish as it might be, I was trying to repay you for sticking with me after… what I did to you."

Laurel fidgeted under his words. She'd suspected there had been more to this tournament trip than just taking Aspen on a whim, but the idea that he'd done it for her made her uncomfortable, particularly since she felt she was the one holding that particular transgression over him. Glancing over at her scroll, she saw that they had already begun the ceremony and were selecting the first of the night's match-ups. A girl from Atlas… and that Mistrali prodigy, Pyrrha Nikos. _I know who my money's on._

"C'mon, Laurel. At least say something."

The woman sighed internally and closed her eyes. "Where's Aspen?" she asked with a touch of shame. There was no reason for her to bring Aspen up other than to try to divert her own guilt, to burden him with another of her own problems.

Oliver seemed to understand this as, when he did finally answer after a few moments of silence, his tone was more frustrated than she was used to hearing. "She's at the tournament with her team."

"Are you serious?!" Laurel sat up as she turned on her partner. "And you just let her go?"

The man's face was drawn into an irritated frown. "She didn't tell me until they were already on the airship up. What did you expect me to do?"

"Dammit, Oliver!" Laurel stood up, arms outstretched. "Last time she was up there, she almost killed three girls!"

"And almost got killed herself!" Oliver countered, standing up as well. "You don't need to remind of every little thing she's done every five minutes, Laurel." He took a breath and shook his head, eyes fixed on her. "When the hell did you become so cynical? I get that you're not a people person and I've accepted that, but this is… It's like you have it out for her!"

Laurel gripped her hair in frustration, not even bothering to answer his question. "This is Gray all over again," she growled, more to herself than Oliver.

The words had reached his ears, however, and the pain in his eyes was evident. "Are you serious? Please, tell me you don't _actually_ blame me for Gray's death, not after all these years of telling me it's not my fault."

"Of course I don't blame you, I blame _her_!" The words were out of Laurel's mouth before she could stop them. "I…" She wanted nothing more than to take them back, to tell him she hadn't meant them, but she had, and she'd hurt him worse than she could possibly imagine.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, to explain herself, but a long, wailing siren pushed itself through the air, cutting their argument short. Both Hunters grew still as a synthesized voice, muffled as it was through the building, delivered words they never wanted to hear. " _Alert. Incoming Grimm attack. Threat level: Nine. Please seek shelter in a calm and orderly manner._ "

Laurel looked at her partner, knowing that the horrified look on his face must have been a match for the one on her own. A Grimm attack during the festival… Threat level _nine_ … What kind of shelter did they expect these people to take?

Oliver recovered before she did, moving quickly to the door to head to his room. Laurel made to follow so that she could gear up, but she stopped when he turned to give her one last look. "We'll finish our talk later," he said, voice calm despite the pain in his eyes. "Just… stay safe." Laurel nodded as he left before turning to her own preparations. This night was going to be _hell_.

(- -)

Amity Colosseum was just as distracting as it was on Aspen's first visit, if not more so. Last time, she'd had to sit on a hard bench, which at least gave her a way to ground herself, but the seats Ilex had picked for them were actual chairs with cushions and armrests, too soft to focus on. On top of that, it felt as though there were more people there than there had been before, though she couldn't be certain.

She gripped her armrests tightly, anxiously waiting for the night to be over. To her left, Ruby sat in just as much discomfort, constantly looking down and fidgeting with her clothes in nervousness. Ilex sat to her right, and Carmine and Rhys were in front of them. Rather than sitting normally, however, the brown-haired faunus had his knees in the seat to look over the back at her, using his hands to talk to her.

He "spoke" quickly, more than eager to tell her about his life before Beacon: born in some place called "Mistral" to a faunus father and human mother; youngest of four with two brothers and one sister, though he was the only deaf one; several "aunts" and "uncles" and numerous "cousins"; then met Ilex at a school called "Sanctum" before going to Beacon. All Ruby had done was ask how Ilex knew sign language. Still, Aspen appreciated that this manner of communication required her focus and distracted her from the press of auras around her.

As Rhys finished signing, Aspen nodded carefully before asking, "Where is Mistral?" There was a brief lapse in the conversation, and she felt surprise emanating from her companions. Had she said something unusual?

"It's a kingdom pretty far to the east from Vale," Ilex eventually explained, leaning closer toward her on his armrest. "It's a whole other continent, actually. Sanctum is a primary combat school there, the kind of place you go to learn the basics before heading to one of the academies."

"I understand," Aspen said slowly as she nodded again. She turned her head toward him, feeling a cool wave of satisfaction roll through his aura. "You are from Mistral as well?"

The satisfaction disappeared as Ilex became unusually nervous, moving away from her to sit up straighter. "Well, not exactly…" he said, eyes turning toward the arena. "Oh, look, the finalists are coming out."

Before he'd even finished talking, the deafening voice of the announcer boomed across the colosseum. " _Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the one-on-one round of the Vytal Festival Tournament!_ " Aspen flinched at the sound, instinctively reaching up to cover her ears. It seemed louder than the last time she'd been there, but none of the others around her seemed to have been disturbed by it. Carmine was looking back at her with suspicion, however. She met his gaze and, after a few heartbeats, he turned to face the arena like everyone else.

It was plain to see that Ilex had been right about the finalists coming onto the arena floor. As Aspen looked down at them, however, something began to worm its way into her chest. _Fear_. It wasn't the sharp terror she'd felt in Ruby when they'd fought or in Rhys after their encounter with Deirean the day before, though. This time, it was more of an uncertainty, a fear of the unknown, and it was coming from someone on the arena floor. She scanned over them, trying to find the source.

" _Alright, it's now time to begin the randomization process for our next fight!_ "

She found the source of her pain soon enough, easy to pick out just by observing the faces of the hunter-students lined up. A tall, redheaded girl was looking around uncomfortably, making little effort to hide the way she was wringing her gloved hands in front of herself. Her outfit struck Aspen as that of a warrior despite the lack of meaningful armor on her arms, and she bore a mostly-circular shield on her back.

A dinging noise filled the air as the large screens around the colosseum displayed a different girl who had orange hair. " _It looks like our first contender is... Penny Polendina from Atlas! And her opponent will be…_ " Another _ding_ , and the redheaded girl's face appeared. " _Pyrrha Nikos, from Beacon!_ "

Beside Aspen, Ruby gasped. "Oh, no…" The cloaked girl stood and made her way past Aspen and Ilex, anxiously apologizing along the way. Puzzled by the odd behavior, Aspen watched as Ruby ran back toward the concourse area.

"What's up with her?" Ilex asked.

Aspen didn't know. Had the other girl noticed something she hadn't? She'd reacted when they'd announced Pyrrha, so that was possible. Unless it was Pyrrha's emotions that concerned Ruby? In that case, should she be concerned as well?

As Aspen considered it, though, a loud sound blasted into the colosseum, and she flinched again. People around her cheered and, as the noise continued, she realized it was some type of _**music**_. Her eyes turned back to the arena. Only the two girls called out by the screen remained, though the field itself was in the process of changing. The floor had split into nine sections, with the center octagon floating in midair as the floor that had once surrounded it retracted into the walls of the arena. Aspen had seen something similar when the Ruby Team had fought, but she still couldn't understand how it all worked. A ring of lights surrounded the floating platform, illuminating the two Hunter-students.

" _Fighters, are you ready?_ "

The pain in Aspen's chest dulled, and another sensation began to settle on her skin. This one was different than any she had felt before, almost… hollow, if an aura could feel hollow. It was smooth, like metal, but it clung to her in a way that metal didn't, and left her skin feeling dry. It felt artificial, like Ilex did whenever he spoke with her. It felt like _**plastic**_ , and it was coming from… _Penny_. Her hand drifted down to her pocket where she kept her scroll. Was this the sort of thing Ozpin was worried about? Was this considered unusual enough?

" _3… 2… 1… Begin!_ "

Aspen jumped in her seat, only this time it hadn't been because of some unexpected sound. Rather, Penny's aura had suddenly arced across her skin like static. She leaned forward in her seat, watching the orange-haired girl intently. Several swords had appeared from behind her, held aloft in midair by some force as they followed her movements in tight arcs in front of her before firing off toward Pyrrha.

"Aspen?" The girl turned her head sharply to look at Ilex, a look of concern on his face. "Is everything okay?"

She briefly focused on his aura—long enough to note with some surprise that his concern seemed to be genuine—before looking back at the fight unfolding in the arena. "I… don't think so." Feeling the flux of worry from the boy, Aspen slipped her hand into her pocket and removed her scroll. She opened it and located James's contact information to call him.

-| _Call failed_ |-

Aspen frowned; this technology was new to her, and she wasn't sure how to handle this situation. Ilex, leaning over toward her, carefully extended his hand toward her. "Let me see it." Aspen relinquished the scroll to him, and he swiftly went to work. "Ironwood? Isn't he Atlas's Headmaster? What are you trying to call him for? Why do you even have his number?"

"Ozpin wanted me to let him know if I felt anything 'unusual,' " she explained, eyeing the two Hunter-students in the arena fighting in close-quarters with their swords. Pyrrha's fear seemed to have been pushed aside to focus on the duel, but Aspen could still feel it lingering beneath the surface. And Penny…

"Uh, alright then." After a moment, Ilex hummed, and Aspen turned back to him. It appeared as though he had attempted to call his own scroll from hers, only to receive the same message. "Here," he said, returning her device, "let me try mine." Pulling his scroll out, he typed in a series of numbers.

-| _Call failed_ |-

"What the…" Muttering under his breath, Ilex leaned forward and tapped Carmine on the shoulder. "Hey, lemme see your scroll."

As the two bickered, a flash of green caught Aspen's eye. She looked down at the arena again to see that Penny had pulled her swords into three clusters, green balls of… energy forming within them before firing out toward Pyrrha. That was definitely _not_ natural. Closing her eyes, Aspen scanned the crowd, trying to find the General's stony aura. If she couldn't call him, she would have to—

Pain suddenly shot through her limbs, panic and terror amidst a coppery aura. Aspen opened her eyes to see Penny reared back with swords aimed at Pyrrha, moments before they shot forward. The redhead waved her arms in front of her and the swords, wreathed in a strange, black glow, reversed direction and flew past their wielder. They hung there for a heartbeat before Penny… fell apart.

A wave of horror crashed into Aspen from the surrounding spectators, soon mixed with confusion. Gasping in pain, she kept her eyes on the arena for as long as she could manage. What should have been a gruesome scene was notably clean, with no blood to be seen amidst the _multiple_ pieces of the girl. Instead, on the screens, Aspen could see that Penny's insides appeared to be, somehow, mechanical in nature. Amidst the pain, she felt an… emptiness, a cold _nothingness_ that she could only assume was the disappearance of the girl's aura.

The screens Aspen was looking at suddenly turned red with the image of a black queen in the center, the same chess piece she had chosen during her initiation. She closed her eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. A new voice rang out through the colosseum, one Aspen recognized. "This is _not_ a tragedy. This is _not_ an accident." The murmurs of the crowd fell silent as Cinder Fall spoke, leaving Aspen feeling isolated in her pain with only the woman's voice.

"This is what happens when you hand over your trust, your safety, your children, to men who claim to be our guardians but are, in reality, nothing more than men. Our Academies' Headmasters wield more power than most armies, and one was audacious enough to control both."

Fear began to creep from the auras around Aspen, digging deep into her body. She closed her eyes tighter, searching desperately for something to latch onto besides Cinder's voice.

"They cling to this power in the name of peace, and yet, what do we have here? One nation's attempt at a synthetic army, mercilessly torn apart by another's star pupil. What need would Atlas have for a soldier disguised as an innocent little girl? I don't think the Grimm can tell the difference."

The fear swelled, joined by a distrust that forced Aspen to duck forward in her seat. She grit her teeth, gripping the armrests of her seat. Something… Anything…

"And how, I ask you, is Ozpin running _his_ school? First a meltdown, now this? Even rewarding the assault of one of his own teams by granting the girl responsible admission. Huntsmen and Huntresses should carry themselves with honor and control, yet I have witnessed nei…"

All sound faded from Aspen's ears as auras filled with fear overwhelmed her. _**Tear them apart.**_ The voice was clear in her mind, and it was her own. _**Silence them and the pain will go away.**_ Something shook in her throat, but she couldn't hear the sound she made. _**You have the power to kill all of them.**_ She felt a hand on her shoulder, cold like ice. _**They do not deserve to live.**_ She tightened her grip on the armrests, and she could feel one of them break. _**KILL THEM!**_

Aspen screamed. It filled her ears, a raw piercing sound that drowned out the voice in her head. She opened her eyes, finding herself standing in the mostly empty colosseum, with only a score of other Hunter-students remaining around the lower ring of seating. Above her, an enormous Nevermore perched on an invisible barrier over the top of the arena, and it was looking down at _her_. With no conscious thought, Aspen growled.

" _Leave._ "

* * *

 **A bit of a shorter chapter this time around. To be honest, this one and the next probably could have been one long chapter, but I decided to break it up into two. It's a lot of things happening and different, overlapping viewpoints, and I want to make sure it all comes across relatively clear.**

 **Compared to 16, this chapter was a lot easier to write. The first scene was still difficult, which is why I wound up writing it after the second, but still. Anyway, yeah. It was actually somewhat of a product of my "rewrites." I'd always planned for a scene between Oliver and Laurel right before everything goes to hell, but it was pretty much the complete opposite of what happened here. I hadn't been particularly happy with Laurel's role in the story or how her attitudes have evolved since the beginning, but going back through made me start thinking how I could adapt that instead of changing it, and that led to… well, this scene.**

 **As for the second one… It feels good to finally write that one. Nobody thought Aspen going to the colosseum the night Cinder made her move was going to end well, right? I'll admit, I feel a bit of a sadistic glee from putting Aspen into caustic situations and having her struggle against them. It's just so** _ **satisfying**_ **to write. Those last few paragraphs in particular give me chills, but I might be a little biased.**

 **There'll be more to say next chapter, so I'll just leave it at that. I hope you all enjoyed! Au revoir!**


	18. Chapter 18

" _And how, I ask you, is Ozpin running his school? First the meltdown of one his students, now this? Even rewarding the assault of one of his own teams by granting the girl responsible admission. Huntsmen and Huntresses should carry themselves with honor and discipline, yet I have witnessed neither."_

Deirean wrenched the strange-looking bracer from the dead man's arm, uncaring of the damage he caused to the already mangled corpse. The armor worn by these havneel soldiers would have been ill-fitting had he not been emaciated from his months in the havashah but, until he fully recovered, it would be… adequate. While it had not served the dead men well against his attack, he was still vulnerable to their projectile weapons, much more advanced than they had been in his time.

He had come across the two men on the outskirts of the forest, standing between it and the city, as though they might singlehandedly protect the havneel living in the buildings of stone and metal from the pech ter'al. They were watching some sort of transmission, he assumed, on a strange metal and glass device. As with much he had seen in his few short days on the surface, the technology was far beyond his understanding, and yet it had been a simple matter to come up behind the first soldier and tear his throat out, causing him and his device to drop to the ground. The other man had, impressively for a havneel, managed to bring his weapon up and strike him with two bullets in the leg, though they had done little to slow the rephaite down. It did earn the man a swift death however, his neck snapped before he could finish bringing his rifle up.

" _Perhaps Ozpin felt as though defeating Atlas in the Tournament would help people forget his colossal failure to protect Vale when the Grimm invaded its streets. Or perhaps this was his message to the tyrannical dictator that has occupied an unsuspecting kingdom with armed forces. Honestly, I haven't the slightest clue as to who is right and who is wrong. But I know the existence of peace is fragile, and the leaders of our kingdoms conduct their business with iron gloves."_

Continuing to strip the two soldiers of their gear, Deirean scowled at the device lying in the grass. He recognized this havneel's voice, the same one that had tried to manipulate him to her thrall. She spun her words with great care, and he could feel the effects they were having on the other havneel in the city and in the large, floating rock over their "academy." True to her word, she was attempting to strike a blow against her own kind, to use the pech ter'al's baser instincts against them. Already he could hear them storming toward him through the trees.

Securing the final piece of armor on his arm, he turned to face the forest as the first pech ter'al came storming out of the mist. It was of the same variety he had encountered near the stream, wolf-like in its appearance and yet still so much like its ancestors in its build and gait. It slowed to a halt upon seeing him, even as more of its kind followed it out from between the trees. They slowed as well, eyeing him with blood-red curiosity as the first one bared its teeth in a snarl.

Deirean returned the expression, letting loose a guttural roar that cut through the air and drove the pech ter'al back a step. He was not certain they would still have the capacity to recognize and submit to his will but, as he grit his teeth, the beasts before him tilted their heads to the side, exposing their throats. " _Leave!_ " he barked, gesturing his arm out toward the forest from which they came. As one, they turned and sped back into the trees, vanishing back into the mist.

" _As someone who hails from_ _Mistral_ _, I can assure you the situation there is… equally undesirable. Our Kingdoms are on the brink of war, yet we, the citizens, are left in the dark. So I ask you: When the first shots are fired... who do you think you can—"_

The havneel device shattered under Deirean's booted heel, silencing Decay's words. This woman had dared to think herself above him—both as an individual and as a species—and attempted to use his power for her own goals. Now, she was attempting to use the pech ter'al in his stead. A low growl escaped his throat. He could only hope that his command would spread far enough to save some of them. The pech ter'al would not be used. Not again.

This woman—this _witch_ —would die tonight.

(- -)

Ilex looked up in horror at the _enormous_ Nevermore that had perched atop the shield over the colosseum. _What… What is happening?!_ All around him, spectators fled the arena, screaming, but he was frozen in place. The Atlesian girl getting torn apart by her own weapons only to be revealed as a robot of some kind, that woman's speech about the Headmasters and Kingdoms, and now _Grimm?!_

By some force of will, he was able to tear his eyes away from the beast above him to look at the people left around him. There were still a number of students—less than two dozen, at most—around the lower edge of the arena, almost all of whom were standing. Among his own team, Rhys was gaping up at the Nevermore, hands shaking, while Carmine was staring out at the arena where Pyrrha had collapsed to her knees before the remains of the robot girl.

Out of everyone, Aspen seemed to be the only one not caught up in the horror of the moment, but actually looked to be in pain. She clutched her seat's armrests dangerously tight, knuckles white, her eyes screwed shut and jaw clenched. She looked like an overwound spring, ready to explode at any moment. Tentatively reaching out, he laid a hand on her shoulder. "Aspen, are you alright?"

One of the armrests snapped, and the girl rose suddenly, a scream tearing its way from her throat. It was not a scream of fear, however, like the ones of the civilians afraid for their lives. It was a scream of the sort he'd heard only once before and that he'd never wanted to hear again. It was the type of scream brought to existence by pain so intense that one would give anything to make it stop, the type that has the power to share that pain with those that hear it.

Ilex stumbled backward as he looked at Aspen, eyes wide at the ferocious look in hers, directed up at the Nevermore. The colosseum seemed silent in the moments following her scream, and it wasn't until Aspen growled that he realized there was, in fact, no other sound to be heard nearby, not even the Nevermore.

" _Ventar._ "

The word rung in the air, a tone that Ilex recognized as sound but could not name. Some instinct drove him to look up at the Nevermore, only to see it was looking back at him. No, not him: _Aspen_. It cocked its head as if in curiosity before letting out an air-shattering screech. Ilex winced, ears pressed flat down against his head. Even Carmine reached up to cover his, but Aspen wasn't fazed. By the time he stood up again, the Nevermore was just… _gone._

Shakily, Ilex turned toward the girl beside him. "Aspen, what was that?" he asked breathlessly. She ignored him, stepping forward with a look akin to barely contained rage. Not breaking stride, she swung herself over the wall to drop the twenty-odd feet into the arena. Carmine turned his head back toward him to give him a sharp look before he, too, went over the edge, though Ilex wasn't sure where his partner had pulled that knife from. "Carmine!"

The teen made to follow as well, but hesitated at the wall. It wasn't that far of a drop, but there was no need to make if he didn't have to, right? Down below, Aspen was moving with purposeful strides, Carmine shadowing her as she moved toward the center of the arena—towards _Pyrrha_. Ilex glanced around nervously at the other students. Most were looking at the scene unfolding with the same uncertainty he felt but, across the arena, he could see what appeared to be Pyrrha's partner, Jaune, running toward her as well. _Ah, hell._

Ilex hit the ground with a dull thud, dropping briefly to one knee to avoid falling over completely. As he straightened up, Rhys dropped beside him with a somehow-heavier thump. In fact, all around the arena, the other students were climbing over the wall as well. _Shi-i-it._ Ilex began running after his teammates, but he could tell he wouldn't make it in time.

As Aspen walked past Penny's… _remains_ , she plucked one of the girl's swords from where it had landed, point-first, and gave it a twirl to remove the piece of cloth stuck on its tip. Meanwhile, Jaune had reached Pyrrha and was crouched beside her with a hand on her shoulder. On Aspen's continued approach, however, he stood and moved defensively in front of his partner. "Hey, back off—"

The words had barely left his mouth when Aspen placed her hand on his chest and shoved him aside. He managed to keep his footing and, for a moment, it seemed as though he was going to attempt to tackle her until she leveled the tip of her sword to his throat. It was impossible for Ilex to tell for sure from where he was, but she didn't even appear to look at the blond. She just stared down at Pyrrha, who looked dully up at the blade.

"Aspen, don't!" Ilex turned his head toward the source of the voice as he came to a stop next to Carmine a few feet away from Aspen. Ruby was sprinting towards them, arm outstretched as if to physically restrain the other girl. She came to a stop on the other side of the circle beginning to form. "It's not her fault! She didn't know!"

No one moved, only the faint sound of screams and sirens in the distance and the scattered murmurs of the gathered students filling the air. Ilex's mind latched onto Ruby's words in the pause. _She… she knew Penny was a robot?_ Knowing Pyrrha's Semblance, he could understand why she'd suddenly left before the match had—

"Get up." Aspen's voice filled the air, silencing all others. There was force behind her words, an emotionless order directed at the girl on the ground before her. Pyrrha turned her eyes from the sword to its wielder, though her expression was no less vacant. The black-haired girl repeated herself with a growl. " _Get_. _Up_."

"Aspen," Ilex said cautiously, lifting his hand uncertainly, though he had no idea what he would do if she attacked.

Shakily, Pyrrha rose to her feet, and Aspen lowered her sword. The tension in the air eased somewhat, but all eyes were still fixed on the girl in black. Her free hand opened and closed several times, the tendons in her fingers tight and showing through her skin, and there was a slight hunch in her posture. After several seconds, she seemed to relax and straightened up. "We are to be Huntresses," she said, voice hard and still clearly directed at Pyrrha. "We are supposed to _protect_ people."

Tears visibly welled in Pyrrha's eyes at what certainly sound like an accusation. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly, on the edge of breaking. "I didn't—"

"I don't care," Aspen growled, cutting the other girl off. Jaune took a step forward, but Aspen turned her head toward him and stopped him in his tracks, giving Ilex a better look at her face in the process. Her red eyes were sharp with anger, but there was something twisted in her expression, something at odds with the image of righteous fury she seemed to be conveying. "There are Grimm in the colosseum, and while you stand here in your fear and guilt and _self-loathing_ …" She paused unexpectedly, closing her eyes and shuddering. "… people are _dying_." Her focus turned back to Pyrrha as she gave her another order. "Pick up your weapons and _protect_ them."

Amazingly, Aspen's words seemed to be the kick everyone needed to get into action. Offering her quiet words of encouragement, Jaune helped Pyrrha recover her weapons while most everyone else pulled out their scrolls to summon their lockers, service apparently having returned—assuming they'd lost it like he and Aspen had. And Aspen…

She turned to look at him, Carmine, and a surprisingly still Rhys. Her gaze flicked down to the white-haired teen's hands, then to his partner's. "You are armed."

It wasn't a question, but Ilex nodded anyway. "Yeah." He glanced over at Carmine, nudging him with his elbow. "He'll still probably want to get his stuff, but I'm good," he said, with a roll of his shoulders. He didn't feel half as confident as he wanted to make himself look, however. People were actually in trouble and could die if he screwed up. As much as this could be the very thing he was looking for, he didn't think he could have it on his conscience, meaning he had to suck it up and… fight some Grimm. That wouldn't be too hard, right?

Aspen nodded. "That's—"

She shuddered again, and this time Ilex could see the pained expression on her face as she almost seemed to crumple in on herself. It wasn't a physical pain, but the same kind of pain he'd felt in her scream earlier and, he realized, what he'd seen in her eyes not moments ago. What… What was going on with this girl?

She drew a sharp breath as she straightened again. "We need to go," she said to him, signing something completely different to Rhys with her free hand. The younger teen seemed to come alive at being addressed and began digging into his robes for his scroll while Carmine reluctantly did the same.

Ilex smiled and gestured toward the exit to the arena. "I'm right behind you," he said to Aspen, and was a little surprised to realize he was genuinely willing to follow her into battle. It was a disconcerting feeling, given their brief history of interaction, but he couldn't deny that her little speech had been compelling. Despite his years of practice, his smile faltered.

Aspen stared at him a moment, as if studying him, before turning and walking toward the exit. It wasn't the first time she'd done that, and Ilex was starting to wonder if she was looking for something in particular. If that were the case, well… It couldn't hurt to find out for himself. Readying Miss Jwai and Miss Cuerta, he followed after the girl.

(- -)

The air was filled with the screams of terrified civilians, the roars of angry Grimm, the staccato of carefully controlled gunfire, and the hum of bullheads and air-buses-turned-evacuation-shuttles, and that was just the situation within the colosseum. There had been reports that the White Fang were releasing Grimm into the school as well, and whoever had hacked into the CCT—undoubtedly responsible for destroying Penny as well—had only incited more panic. To make matters worse, the warship carrying Roman Torchwick had gone dark and fired on the other two, leaving little doubt as to who was responsible. At the very least, Grimm activity in the city was limited and quickly being dealt with. Still, it was very near a worst-case scenario. Fortunately for Vale, Atlas was prepared.

General Ironwood watched in silence as his soldiers escorted the civilians onto the evacuation shuttles and dealt with the Grimm as they were released. Even amidst the chaos, they operated efficiently and effectively, and he expected no less from them. Assuming the White Fang didn't have more surprises, it wouldn't be long before they secured the colosseum. From there, he would have to take a squad of Knights to retake his ship while his men evacuated and, if possible, secured Be—

Ironwood's focus was diverted as a large Beowolf, easily twelve feet tall, pounced on a Knight further down the concourse and tore it apart. Another nearby android opened fire, but the Grimm merely roared in annoyance, lifted the Knight up with ease and ripped it in half. As it dropped the twisted pieces of metal, it turned its head toward the general, ears perked up. Ironwood narrowed his eyes as he met the beast's gaze. Given its size, the amount of bony plates and spikes protruding through its black fur, and its apparent capacity for intelligence, it was almost certainly an Alpha. As much as he disliked to admit it, his troops didn't have the firepower to deal with it without preventing civilian casualties, which meant _he_ would have to deal with it personally.

As he took a few slow steps forward, the Alpha dropped to all fours and began loping toward him. He increased his pace, moving into a jog and then a sprint, and the Beowolf was quickly approaching its own top speed. It wasn't often that the general engaged in combat anymore, and something primal within him pushed a roar from his lungs, but it died in his throat as a shadowy blur intercepted the Beowolf mid-stride, knocking it aside like a bullet.

Ironwood slid to a stop, hand slipping into his jacket to draw his revolver from its holster. He turned to see a black-haired girl standing over the stunned Beowolf. It took him a moment to recognize her as the girl Ozpin had rashly accepted into his school despite her near-criminal actions against Team RWBY. It only alarmed him further, then, when she pulled one of _Penny's_ swords out of the Alpha's chest.

The girl—Aspen—made to stab the Beowolf again, but the beast swatted her aside with one of its long arms and clambered back to its feet. Aspen tumbled across the floor, but managed to right herself, so she came back to her feet, sword still in hand. From the way she struggled to move her arm, however, it appeared to have broken when the Grimm struck her. He'd seen the footage of her fight with Team RWBY, and whether she had a weak defensive Aura as Ozpin had suggested or no Aura at all as was the rumor among some of his men, she was clearly at adisadvantage in this situation.

Despite this, the Beowolf stood still, looking at the girl with what almost seemed to be confusion. Ironwood lifted his revolver to kill it, but the two suddenly surged toward one another, Aspen having switched the sword to her left hand. The Beowolf came to an anticipatory stop, swinging its arm toward the girl. Ironwood was certain she would be crushed with no time for him to intervene, but Aspen continued to surprise him. As the Alpha's claws came down, she leapt with a raw yell, spinning counter-clockwise as she went. In a single stroke, she severed the Grimm's hand and head, leaving both to fall bloodlessly to the ground.

An unexpected feeling of dread crept down Ironwood's spine as the girl's eyes fluttered closed and her head rolled back shakily. An eerie smile, like one of delight, spread across her face as she stood in place, the smoke from the Grimm filling the air around her. Another teen, a white-haired faunus, ran by, though he slowed as he approached Aspen, asking if she was alright. Whether or not she heard him was unclear as she switched her acquired sword back to her right arm before grabbing the loose limb and jerking part of it back into place, eliciting a wince from both her and the other teen, whom Ironwood assumed to be her teammate. Narrowing his eyes, the general lifted his revolver and pointed it at the girl. "Miss Gray, drop the sword and stand down."

Aspen was a part of this. The woman who had hijacked the comm system had practically confirmed it. Her speech had been rehearsed, designed to sow panic and distrust amongst the populace. It was clear now that she had somehow manipulated both this fight and last night's to the same end, and it only made sense that Aspen's sudden appearance earlier that week had been her work as well.

Crimson eyes turned to settle on him, chilling ecstasy fading to cold hardness. Her jaw moved in a slow circle before settling into a taut scowl. "No."

 _Figures she would be the stubborn type._ Ironwood drew the hammer back with his thumb before realigning his aim. "I won't ask again." It wouldn't be pretty if he had to shoot her, but if that was what it took to protect the civilians still in the colosseum, so be it. The girl bared her teeth in a snarl, and his finger danced on the trigger.

"I…" The white-haired teen looked between the two of them, side-stepping nervously away from Aspen and toward the general. "What's going on? What did she do?"

Ironwood kept his sights on the girl, refusing to relax his trigger-finger. "I have reason to believe that she is working with the people behind this attack. Her appearance this week is too coincidental and—from what little Ozpin has deigned to tell me—she's caused nothing but trouble since."

Aspen's eyes narrowed, but the boy looked at him with incredulity. "She has nothing to do with this!" he exclaimed. He stepped between them, only to realize that the general's gun was now pointed at him. Despite this, he held his position. "She's been with us all evening! Hell, she was trying to call _you_ before that robot of yours…" He trailed off, coughing self-consciously into one hand. "She _tried_ to call you, but our scrolls weren't working for some reason. Besides, I don't really think you can afford to arrest someone willing and able to fight off the Grimm right now."

Ironwood frowned as he considered the teen's argument. While her inaction tonight did not necessarily absolve her of the role she might've played in the larger plot, the boy made a strong case. Ozpin had informed him that he had convinced Aspen to attend and alert him should she sense anything unusual, and she had apparently attempted to do just that. On top of that, she had decapitated an Alpha Beowolf despite a broken arm. Relenting, he removed his finger from the trigger and brought the revolver down to his side before turning his gaze toward the boy. "You're a Jae, correct? That would make you… Ilex?"

If the teen was surprised at being identified, he hid it well, straightening up and squaring his shoulders toward the general. "Yes, sir, I am," he answered calmly, though there was a hint of worry in his eye.

Ironwood briefly looked him over. There was a bit of dirt on one of his knees, but his outfit was otherwise spotless, as one would expect of someone from his family. He didn't look particularly strong-willed now, but there was potential there; few people had the fortitude to willingly put themselves in front of a gun, even on behalf of someone else. "You're not quite what I expected," he said, leaving the boy to wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing as he moved to speak with Aspen. "If you were trying to contact me, I take it you sensed something?"

The girl's anger seemed to fade as she looked away, her eyes darting back and forth as she recalled her memory. "That girl, Penny. Her Aura… It wasn't right. It didn't feel natural." Crimson orbs came back up to look at him, emotionless. "That was what I wanted to tell you."

Ironwood frowned and crossed his arms as he began to explain. "Penny is…" He paused, less concerned with the tense he referred to her with than confessing to her true nature. While he had already been outed by the woman on the broadcast system, it still didn't seem prudent to discuss military projects with two students, and certainly not this particular pair. "Penny was a trustworthy student," he finally said. "While I can understand your reaction to sensing her Aura, she wasn't what you were asked to look out for. Did you sense anything else?"

Aspen's brow furrowed, and she looked to the side again. "The copper one, Pyrrha, was… afraid before they started fighting, but she did not do this intentionally."

"I didn't think she had," Ironwood said, uncrossing his arms. He had no doubt that the girl's uncertainty had been due to the… _unpleasant_ situation he and Ozpin had been forced to put her in, and their enemies—whether intentionally or not—had taken advantage of her emotional state. It wasn't particularly helpful information, however. "Is that all? Did you sense anything to indicate who was behind this?" he asked, feeling annoyed despite himself. There were other matters to attend to, and he didn't like the idea that this girl was wasting his time while there were lives at stake.

The girl's expression quickly shifted from distant thought to a scowl directed toward him. The general wasn't entirely clear on how her ability worked, but he suspected she had sensed his annoyance, a suspicion that was confirmed as she spoke. "Finding one person among so many others is difficult even when I know what I'm looking for," she growled. "To try and find something I _don't_ know is…"

"Like a needle in a haystack?" Ilex suggested from behind the general, though he shrunk back a step when Ironwood turned his gaze on him.

"Yes," Aspen said, sounding almost surprised. When Ironwood turned back to her, however, she still had the same look of frustration on her face. "Like that, but every piece of hay looks different and feels like a needle. Perhaps I could have burned the hay—"

Ironwood held up a hand, silencing the girl. The thought of her carving through helpless civilians came all too easily, even without her metaphor. "No, you did the right thing, and I suppose you did as you were asked, as well." He fixed her with a hard look. "That said, we're going to have a talk with Ozpin once this is all over." The girl narrowed her eyes, but did not respond beyond a curl of her lip.

Looking around the concourse, it appeared that most, if not all, of the Grimm had been dealt with, and evacuation was nearly complete. Still, Ironwood kept his revolver ready as he made his way toward a waiting transport. A large group of teenagers rushed out of the colosseum across from the ship, several of the ones in the lead looking around as they slowed. On seeing him, they changed direction and moved to meet him. "What's going on?" the girl in the front —Ruby Rose—asked.

Ironwood continued walking, forcing the students to reverse course to follow. He briefly considered telling them not to worry, but opted against doing so. They deserved the truth. "The White Fang has invaded Beacon with captured Grimm and, while we're lucky they've ignored the city for now, there are more Grimm on the way. On top of that, some—" — _bastard_ — "— _vagabond_ has seized one of my ships. Until we regain command, the skies are out of our control, so I'm going to take it back."

"What should we do?" one of the students asked, a blonde boy in a hoodie and armor.

Ironwood stopped in front of the gangplank, turning to address the students. Most of them were worried and, despite the evening's events, were looking to him for guidance. This was a situation unlike any they had encountered, and it was natural for them to be afraid. "You have two choices: Defend your Kingdom and your school... or save yourselves." The students looked around at one another hesitantly, and a feeling of displeasure settled in the general's stomach. "No one will fault you if you—"

"Look out!"

The collective shout caused the general to whirl around, revolver in hand to deal with the threat the students had called out, only to see the half-dozen Knights that had been in the transport pointing their weapons at _him_. A barrage of gunfire cut the androids down before they had a chance to shoot, the red lights on their chassis fading into darkness. _Knights aren't supposed to be red._ Ironwood's frustration grew as he turned his gaze toward the single remaining warship. "They've been hacked," he said quietly, feeling disgust not only toward Torchwick, but himself. He'd been _used_ , and now his Knights had been turned into _their_ tools.

Turning back to the students, some of whom had yet to lower their weapons, he addressed them one last time. "I'll do what I can to retake control, but it appears as though those of you who choose to fight will be facing some of my soldiers as well." He paused, meeting several of their gazes. This particular development didn't seem to have done much to relieve their worries. "I am sorry." Waving over a group of soldiers helping the last few civilians onto a shuttle, he turned and made his way onto the ship to begin preparations for takeoff. If so much as one of those students was injured by his mechs, he would bring hell down upon the man responsible.

In fact, he might just do that anyway.

(- -)

As the general walked onto the ship and the soldiers rushed over to board it as well, Ruby couldn't shake the knot in her stomach. She heard Sun and Jaune talking about taking a ship to Beacon and felt herself running along with them, but she was just moving on autopilot. This whole situation just didn't feel right to her and, as she slowed to a stop to look back at the transport ship taking off and heading toward the warship with a dozen other craft, everything seemed to come into place.

This is what it had felt like when her mom had left that day, on what would be her last mission. She had been young, too young to remember it well, but she'd replayed her own version of those events countless times since then. Watching the transport shrink into the distance, she couldn't help but feel like she should have gone with them. She could have helped them, helped stop Torchwick. General Ironwood hadn't said his name, but she knew it had to be him, and she had experience fighting him. More than anyone! At least, RWBY combined did. Still, that had to have counted for something.

"You can't fight every fight." Ruby jumped at the voice, not having noticed the girl standing beside her. She looked up to see Aspen looking down at her, still holding on to Penny's sword. "You're not strong enough to do that. _I_ am not strong enough. They will fight their fight, and we will fight ours."

Ruby let the words soak into her. They were blunt but, with her limited experience with the other girl, they didn't surprise her. Aspen hadn't quite alleviated her worries, but it still felt as though she had somehow read her mind and attempted to speak directly to her inner thoughts. A wry smile spread across Ruby's face as she nodded at the older girl. "Right."

"Now move!"

"R-right!"

* * *

 _ **Ventar**_ **…** _ **Ventar**_ **…** _ **Ventar**_ **… I just get giddy writing that word.**

 **So, I've got a bit of a thing to talk about here, obviously, but there's a little background beforehand. Way back in January of last year, I was talking with Recycler—who I've mentioned before was the person who got me to write this story—and I brought up something that Aspen could do that she didn't know about at the time. Trying to be coy about it, I said that it was something that would affect the Grimm attack. Then, with the Mother of all Hammers, Recycler hit the nail square on: "She can control Grimm, can't she?"**

 **Not wanting to give it away, I neither confirmed nor denied such an ability, raising a question that I can't really repeat right now (sorry). A few months later, he asked again, to which I replied, "You were pretty close the last time you guessed… I have a feeling that once it's revealed, you might argue with me about my definition of 'pretty close.' "**

 **So, yes, Recycler. Aspen (and Deirean) can control Grimm. Sort of. It's more that they are exerting their wills over them, but it's not a sure thing. I've been seeding this idea ever since Aspen encountered her first Beowolves. Since she doesn't have an Aura they can sense, they were confused by her presence, then followed it with a challenging snarl. She didn't respond in kind, so they attacked. This time, things were a little different.**

 **But, that's just one part of this chapter. Hopefully, I didn't brush over Penny's death too much. It's an important moment in the show but here, Aspen taking charge was more important. In fact, that was a bit of a running theme in this chapter, particularly in the last scene, which wasn't planned until I was nearly finished with the one before it.**

 **Honestly, I wasn't sure the Ironwood scene would work out. I've had trouble in the past writing certain characters such as Cinder and Qrow, and I thought for sure Ironwood would be joining them, but no. That scene was surprisingly easy to get through, save for a couple of moments.**

 **Alright, that's all for now. Hope you guys are continuing to enjoy, and I hope I don't disappoint in the future! Au revoir!**


	19. Chapter 19

A bead of sweat dripped down Oliver's temple, streaking through the thin layer of ash and burnt gunpowder collecting on his skin. Metal crashed against metal as he bisected an Atlesian Knight with his claymore before moving to lop the head off a second. Three others fired their rifles at him, but the bullets fell uselessly to the ground as the huntsman blocked them with his Semblance. Rolling toward the nearest mech, he sliced upward through its knee before coming back down across its chest. Before it even hit the ground, he'd charged forward, impaling the next Knight and charging through to skewer the final droid as well.

Freeing his sword from the two robotic bodies, Oliver took a moment to get his bearings. Beacon was in chaos, with Grimm of all types running around attacking anything that moved, White Fang soldiers running around shooting at anything that moved and, to top it all off, Atlesian mechs running around shooting at anything that moved. Despite all that, Oliver didn't think he'd be any safer standing still. He and Tawny had done their best to find anyone in need and keep them safe, but with only scattered military support and a handful of students to help them out, it was far from easy. If there was a bright side, it was that there didn't seem to be that many civilians left to save. Splitting his weapon back down into hand cannons, he ran off toward where he'd last seen Tawny.

 _Gods, Laurel…_ This night might have been easier to get through if he'd known she had his back, but after what she'd said? The bombshell that, after all these years, she blamed _Gray_ for her own death? Lifting one arm, he fired off a trio of shots, bringing down a pair of Beowolves ahead of him. That thought alone hurt worse than thinking she blamed him. And what had she meant by comparing Aspen to Gray? He shook his head, slowing to a stop to listen for any sign of where Tawny might be. Like he told her, this issue needed to wait until later. She was still his partner, and he still cared for her as such.

The familiar staccato of Timekeeper reached his ears amidst the roars and gunfire of other combat. Turning, he followed the sound to its source. He found Tawny crouched behind some rubble, exchanging fire with a group of mechs. Behind her was a pair of civilians, a man and a woman. Holstering one of his guns, he fired off a few shots at the Knights, clipping one in the shoulder before sliding into the cover as well. Tawny didn't look at him, continuing to fire as he focused his attention on the civilians.

The man was unconscious with a bullet wound in his leg, entry and exit, no major vessels hit. The woman appeared to be unharmed and was attempting to put pressure on the wound, but she was too frightened by the firefight to be as effective as she needed to be. Holstering his other gun, Oliver placed his hands over hers, helping her out. She looked up at him, clearly terrified, and he gave her a smile. "It's going to be alright," he said reassuringly, taking her focus off of the combat surrounding them. "What's your name?"

The woman blinked at him, flinching as a nearby Grimm roared. Oliver pressed his hands onto hers a little tighter, drawing her attention again. He knew how difficult it could be to focus when your life was in danger, so the best thing he could do was to make her feel like she wasn't in danger. "K-Kat," she stammered, keeping her head low.

"Hey, Kikat," Oliver said with a smile, intentionally imitating her stutter. "I'm Mantis. I doubt she introduced herself, but the woman behind me is Tawny. She's my partner, and we're going to get you two out of here." He nodded down to their hands on the man's leg. "You're doing a great job with this wound, but I'm going to need you to hold it for just a second, alright?" He held her gaze until she nodded nervously. Lifting his hands off, he reached into one of his pockets to find a bandage.

"Mantis!" Tawny shouted, an audible ticking sound coming from her weapon as it ran low on ammo.

Oliver rolled his eyes dramatically for Kat's sake. "One more second." Drawing one of his weapons as he stood, he fired the remainder of his magazine into the group of Creeps and Beowolves advancing on their position while Tawny reloaded her weapon with one of the spare drums she had brought. As he ran dry, he swiftly dropped the magazine and loaded another to continue firing.

He only got a few shots off before Tawny stood back up and he was able to return to the civilians. "Sorry about that," he apologized to Kat, re-holstering his weapon and pulling the bandages out. There wouldn't be enough to completely bandage the wound, but it would do until he could get proper attention. "So, how are you enjoying the Vytal Festival? Everything you hoped it would be?"

A choked laugh escaped the woman's throat as he began wrapping the strip of cloth over the man's wounds "I didn't expect to be this close to the fighting."

Oliver chuckled, a genuine smile on his lips. "I know what you mean," he replied, tightening the bandage with a jerk of his hand. The man groaned and stirred, but otherwise remained still. "Just think, though; you get to go home and tell people you saved someone's life. Or, at least, their leg." She looked up at him, and he winked. "Feel free to embellish how you like."

A relative silence fell over the area as Tawny stopped firing. "We're clear for now," she announced, leaning against the rubble pile to catch her breath.

With a nod, Oliver looked to Kat. "Think you can help me get him out of here?" The woman dipped her head, reaching to grab one of the unconscious man's arms. Together, she and Oliver pulled him up and draped his arm over their shoulders. The clatter of approaching feet caught the Huntsman's attention, and he turned his head to see a group of soldiers running up to them. Leading Kat over, Oliver passed the unconscious civilian to one of the men. "Get them to safety. We'll make sure the area's clear and keep looking for others."

The soldiers nodded and began leading the two away. The woman looked back briefly and called out, "Thank you!" With a smile, Oliver gave her a parting wave before turning back to Laurel.

As the two Hunters made eye contact, memories of their conversation came back into Oliver's mind. He grimaced, and he could see Tawny was having similar thoughts as she looked away uncomfortably. "How are things looking here?" he asked, refocusing on the matter at hand.

His partner stood up from the rubble, hefting her weapon as she looked around. "Like a war zone," she said frankly. "Only a few casualties, thankfully, but if more Grimm come, I don't know that we can hold out with what we have now."

"I know what you mean," Oliver said, looking around at the ruined buildings and fires that had sparked in some places. It was a lull in the combat, to be sure, but it was guaranteed not to last long.

In fact, it didn't even last as long as he thought it would. Tremors shook the earth in a rhythmic pattern, and they were approaching fast. Drawing his weapons, Oliver checked to make sure he would be ready for a fight, and Tawny did the same. The quaking spread to the nearby buildings, shaking the glass still left in the windows. The two Hunters shared a look. "Shi—"

Oliver's curse was cut off as the building in front of them exploded and a Goliath crashed through it. Stone and dust went flying as the massive Grimm shook its head, drawing deep furrows in the rubble and dirt with its tusks. The Hunter looked around quickly, trying to find some advantage against the beast that they could exploit, and his mind went back to Aspen's fight in the forest. _Base of the skull is vulnerable._

"Tawny!" he shouted, pointing toward a nearby light post. The woman acted immediately, transforming her weapon even as he rushed toward the charging Grimm. He stopped after only a few yards, however, bringing Venation back together into a claymore as he spun around. Tawny had done as he'd hoped, wrapping one end of her weapon around the post and holding the counterweight so that the chain was stretched taut. Sprinting toward the makeshift slingshot, Oliver leapt and turned around again, feet coming to rest against the weapon's handle. The chain flexed back beneath his weight and momentum, but when Tawny wrenched her end back again, he was launched out toward the Goliath. As he fired his own weapon back to give himself a bit more speed, one thought prevailed in his mind: _I hope I live to regret this._

(- -)

Fires burned down below the airship, spots of lights amidst the darkness of Beacon. Rhys's forehead was pressed firmly against the window glass, his eyes wide as he looked from spot to spot, picking out the pockets of fighting. His tail twitched, bumping against the seat behind him. There was so much chaos, so much destruction. It was… It was all just…

It was all just so beautiful, yet soul-crushingly far away. Why was the airship moving so slowly? A Goliath just crashed through that building! Did they really expect them all to be patient when there were fights like that down there? The boy pushed away from the window, exhaling agitatedly. Looking around the ship, it seemed like that was exactly what they expected. Most of the other students were just standing around, looking sad and talking with one another. Ruby was about the only other person who looked at least a little bit anxious, walking in a not-quite pacing kind of way and tugging at the edges of her sleeves, though he doubted it was for the same reason as him.

He liked Ruby. She was younger than the others like him, loved weapons about as much as he did, and was really fun to fight, even if she was better than him sometimes. Plus, she was one of the few people to actually put in effort to talk with him despite his deafness. He'd only been able to teach her a few signs, but it was still more than most. From what little interaction they had, though, he knew she didn't enjoy fighting as much as he did unless it was to protect people. If anything, that was probably what was bothering her.

Casting another impatient look out the window, Rhys made the decision that they were close enough. Turning to the back of the airship, he began to walk toward the doors only to be stopped by a hand falling on his shoulder. Rolling his eyes, he turned back around, expecting Ilex to yell at him for something. Instead, he got Aspen looking at him quizzically. "Where are you going?" she signed.

Rhys huffed as he moved his hands to reply. "We're low enough. I'm going to jump." He liked Aspen too, probably more than Ruby even after only a few days. She didn't talk much, sure, but when she did she always made sure to sign for him, even though he could read her lips. It was a small thing, but everyone else his age who actually knew sign—just Ilex, really—didn't bother most of the time. Also, she was _really_ strong and her armor seemed cool, even if she wasn't done yet. He didn't really get why Carmine didn't seem to like her or why Ilex pretended to, but if she was going to try to stop him from going to fight like Mantis had, it wouldn't matter how much she liked to fight. "You're not going to stop me."

Aspen furrowed her brow, looked out the window, then to the back of the airship. After a moment, she stepped past him to approach the door. Rhys's heart jumped in his chest as he followed after her. He could feel others in the ship looking at them, but he was too excited to care. He was finally going to get to fight! The door slid shut behind them as they walked into the small storage area in the back of the ship. Sensing another presence, the teen glanced over his shoulder to see Carmine and Ilex had followed them out. | _What's going on?_ | Ilex asked, glancing nervously between him and Aspen. | _We haven't landed yet._ |

Rhys grinned, signing as the rearmost door opened. "We're going to jump!" He let out a delighted laugh at the way Ilex's face paled as wind began to whip through the space. Carmine didn't look frightened, though, just hardening that serious expression of his as he stepped out onto the ship's ramp.

Still smiling, Rhys stepped forward as well, stopping alongside Aspen, who had sloppily tucked most of her hair into her hoodie. That didn't stop the rest of it from being carried into Rhys's face, but neither of them cared. They were flying over one of Beacon's smaller courtyards, just over two dozen yards off the ground. Grimm and mechs were in the middle of fighting each other, and it was difficult to tell which side was winning. Rhys glanced up at Aspen, and she nodded. Needing no more incentive, he took a half-step back before launching himself off the ship, cackling as he went. As he fell, he unslung Bullrush from his back and gripped the handles. With a pull, the weapon expanded to its full glory.

The Ursa never knew what hit it. Semblance flashing bronze as it absorbed the impact, Rhys hit the Grimm with enough force to shatter its skull plate and snap its neck. The skirmish paused as both beast and machine turned to look at him. With a wicked grin, Rhys charged the nearest Grimm, a Beowolf, and swung Bullrush into its chest. True to its purpose, the battering ram practically exploded the Grimm, sending fragments of bone spikes into its nearby allies. The teen stepped off quickly, butting one of the stunned Beowolves in the chest with the top side of his weapon. It wasn't as powerful as a head-on strike, but it was still enough to knock the creature down and allowed him to finish it off with a trio of stomps to the neck. With his weapon barely to his shoulder, he fired a rocket into the remainder of the stunned Grimm, sending rapidly evaporating chunks of flesh in all directions.

Rhys reflexively activated his Semblance as he was peppered with bullets from several of the nearby mechs. He scowled in annoyance as the rounds bounced harmlessly off. His Semblance may have prevented the bullets from chewing up his Aura, and he may have developed a higher tolerance for pain than most people he knew, but getting shot was still one of the more painful experiences he could think of.

Growling, he made to fire another rocket at the offending mechs, but a dark blur dashed into their line. Three of them were cut down violently before any of the others could react, but by then it was too late. With a flash of metal, Aspen decapitated two more, sliding effortlessly to the next to cut it in half at the waist and then to the next to slice it down the chest before finishing it off by stabbing it through the head. She had a special style of fighting that Rhys had seen during their fight in the forest and now saw here, a blend of brute force savagery and near-fluid motion. Her blood-red eyes and wild hair, which had come loose already, only served to highlight her ferocity.

The two met each other's gaze across the courtyard-turned-battlefield, and Rhys grinned. The smile faltered, however, when he noticed one of the larger, tank-like mechs bringing its guns to bear on his partner. Quickly lifting Bullrush back to his shoulder, he fired a rocket directly at the robot. Unfortunately, Aspen had also seen the threat and was moving to engage when the rocket hit.

The explosion threw the girl back, sending her rolling across the ground. Panicking as he remembered that her Aura didn't protect her the same way his did, Rhys sprinted over to where Aspen lay on the ground. As he slid to a stop beside her, she was struggling to lift herself to her hands and knees. He dropped his weapon to the ground though, as soon as he did, he was uncertain of what to do with his hands. How was he supposed to help her? He knew he'd taken classes on this sort of thing, but he'd never really listened. They were supposed to fight monsters after all, not help them. Now he wished he had paid more attention.

Aspen managed to steady herself on all fours and slowly lifted her head to look around. She didn't look in good shape, blood running from her nose and left ear and various gashes and scrapes across her face. her eyes were unfocused even as they wandered, until they eventually settled on him. She blinked slowly, almost painfully, before looking down at his weapon. Rhys's face twisted with regret. "I'm sorry," he signed. "I didn't see you—"

The girl cut him off by placing one hand over his, gripping as she tried to stand. Scrambling to his feet, Rhys helped her up, still uncertain of what he should be doing. For as bad as she looked while on the ground, though, the simple act of standing seemed to make Aspen appear less injured. Even her face looked less bloody. As she found her balance, she met his eyes and lifted her free hand. "We kill it," she signed, gesturing toward the large mech, also climbing to its feet after being knocked over by the rocket.

Faced with the prospect of battle, Rhys quickly picked up his weapon again, getting it ready for the fight. The lumbering mech before them whirred and clanked as it rose to its feet, the damage from the rocket clearly visible in the scorched plates and exposed wiring. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Rhys looked up at Aspen to see if she was ready to fight. "I'm behind you," she signed. He grinned and laughed as he charged the war machine.

Best partner ever!

(- -)

Aspen grimaced as Rhys ran off, a wave of… _**dizziness**_ momentarily pushing her off balance. Something inside her wasn't right. Whatever had… _**exploded**_ against the large machine had done something to her, something she couldn't just _fix_ , like a broken bone or dislocated joint. There was an unnatural pressure in the left side of her abdomen but no external sign of injury, and her head pulsed painfully with every beat of her heart. And her ears… There was a persistent ringing sound in the right one, and she couldn't hear anything at all out of the left.

Rhys had something to do with the explosion, that much she knew, but her getting caught in it hadn't been intentional. Simply distinguishing auras at the moment was difficult but, even still, she had sensed his regret. He had been trying to stop the machine from shooting her. He'd been trying to _help_ her. No one had ever helped her before, at least not like this. She had never needed it before since she had always fought alone, but now she had someone to fight alongside. It was a… _new_ experience. A good one, explosion aside.

Gritting her teeth against the unsteadiness draining down from her skull, Aspen stepped toward the machine. She had seen the smaller ones, the ones that looked like people, but this one looked big enough to have a person _inside_. There was no aura, though, not that she could—

The pressure in the girl's abdomen suddenly rose up and forced itself out through her throat. She dropped back down to her knees as blood spattered on the ground, thinned by digestive fluids. With every successive heave, the throbbing in her head grew in intensity, and spots of black began to consume her vision. Aura moved and swelled around her, her last connection to consciousness.

As quickly as the fit began, however, her body stilled and the pain in her skull receded. It was still there, but the worst seemed to have passed. She lifted herself shakily to her feet, the sword in her hand sending vibrations up her arm as it dragged through the dirt and stones. Her vision cleared as she found her balance, and her eyes resettled on the machine, turning to chase Rhys. Tightening her hold on her weapon, she stepped over her vomit and broke into a sprint.

With a wide, arcing strike, Aspen carved a long fissure in the armor on the machine's left leg as she passed. She continued around to attack what she could only describe as the knee, scoring a deep but superficial gash in the thick armor. The machine turned its red eye toward her. The light inside flashed once, and then one of the machine's mechanical fists was swinging down toward her. It moved with a speed that defied its great size but, even in her current state, Aspen was faster. She sprang to the side, letting the stone of the pathway take the impact. Bits of dirt and rubble fell over her, momentarily obscuring her line of sight to the machine. A faint whirring sound reached her right ear, the briefest warning of a second attack before the debris cleared. She lifted her sword in an attempt to deflect the blow, but there was no point to the action.

Metal crashed against metal in a violent cacophony that split the air, a physical force that slammed through Aspen's body. She staggered back a single step, eyes narrowing as she watched the shattered remains of the machine's arm scatter across the ground. Rhys stood between them with a wide grin and a glint in his eye as he swung his bulky weapon back into the same leg she had attacked. The metal buckled under the force before yielding entirely, crumpling under the weight of the rest of the machine.

Despite having lost two of its limbs, however, it continued to fight on. Propping itself up on its ruined arm, the machine attempted to crush Rhys with the other. Aspen rushed past the boy, springing off their opponent's leg to pierce the arm through the wrist. As she dragged it bodily to the side, she cast a look toward Rhys. The faunus understood her intent and, with a gleeful cackle, swung his weapon down on the elbow.

The joint was crushed completely, practically severing the hand from the rest of the machine. Freeing her sword, Aspen stalked up to what remained of the body. As it struggled to move, it seemed to look down at her, its red eye flashing once more. Aspen scowled, turned her sword sideways, and stabbed deep into its head. The machine shuddered, and a low droning sound emanated from within its body. After a moment, however, it fell silent and collapsed. Dead.

 _Dead._ Aspen glared at the machine as she removed her sword. There was no feeling of euphoria from striking it down, no rush of adrenaline. It wasn't dead. It had never been alive, just a machine. There was little satisfaction to be had.

Rhys seemed to disagree, though, hissing and whooping as he danced around in front of her. When he came to a stop, he lifted his hand up between them, palm facing out. She didn't recognize the sign—at least, not in context, of which there was none—but the look on his face indicated that he expected something from her. When she didn't react the way he wanted her to, he cocked his head and, after a moment, reached out and grabbed her free hand to position it in the same way. With a grin, he lifted his hand again and clapped their palms together. Aspen blinked, hand hanging in the air as Rhys chuckled. | _H-I-G-H F-I-V-E,_ | he spelled out, before mimicking the action with his own hands. | _High five!_ |

The girl looked down at her hand quizzically. _High five?_ The origin of the name seemed obvious, but… what was it supposed to mean? Some sort of celebratory act? It certainly wasn't something the rephaim had done. Sticking the point of her sword in the ground, she lifted her hands and carefully made the same action Rhys had. | _High five?_ | Rhys nodded happily.

As Aspen processed this information, she heard what sounded like shifting metal somewhere to her right. Immediately, she pulled her sword from the ground and pointed it toward the source of the noise, only to see nothing but dimly lit ground. She narrowed her eyes. She couldn't sense anything either, but that only meant it hadn't been human or faunus.

"Over here," a familiar voice said, even further to Aspen's right. Switching her sword between hands to keep it pointed in the same direction, she rotated her body to look at Ilex as he approached. False confidence rolled off of him like chilled air, a poor mask for the fear he truly felt. Behind him, Carmine stood by with the same silent suspicion he'd had back in the colosseum. "Are you alright? What are you looking at?" Ilex asked when she looked back to the source of the noise.

 _ **Kill him.**_

Aspen ignored the voice. "I heard something," she said, her own voice sounding strange coming through only her right ear.

Ilex furrowed his brow in confusion. "I'm pretty sure that was me," he said, pointing back over his shoulder. "I kicked one of the mechs… Unless you heard something else?" He looked out to where Aspen was pointing as she looked over to where he had indicated the "mech" he had kicked was. All she saw was the remains of several of the smaller, humanoid machines. Was that what they were called, then? Mechs?

"There's nothing over there." Ilex turned his attention back to her with unusually genuine concern, a hesitant warmth in his frosty aura. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, eyes flicking over the cuts on her face.

Aspen lowered her sword, deciding to accept his judgement. "I'm fine. I'm just having difficulty hearing."

"Difficulty? How bad?"

She nodded, reaching up to gently touch her left ear. "I can't hear anything on this side." It was a strange feeling, the imbalance of sound. The right side wasn't quite normal yet either but, compared to the heavy emptiness on the left, it almost felt light. In fact, had she not just felt it, she would have believed that her left ear was gone entirely.

Ilex's face grew pale as disbelief swelled within him. "Can't… And that's…" Aspen watched as he looked around at the others, searching for something he evidently didn't get. "You were down here for, like, ten seconds. What happened?"

The teen looked over to Rhys, and Aspen followed his gaze. | _I… kinda blew her up,_ | the shorter boy explained, embarrassed.

As Ilex pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath, Aspen began to walk around the fallen machine, toward the school. She was still having trouble separating auras from one another, but that didn't stop them from reaching her. Fear, anger, grief, and hatred all cut and burned and speared her from every direction. It should have been overwhelming. In the wake of what she'd felt in the colosseum, however, it was _nothing_.

"Aspen, shouldn't we get you medical attention or something?" Ilex continued behind her.

She opened her mouth to respond, but Carmine spoke first. "I'm sure she'll be fine." Despite the way he seemed to be giving her his confidence, his tone was insincere and bordered on accusatory. "She heals fast, after all." _**Sarcastic.**_

"She blew up, Carmine! She could have a concussion or something! How is that going to—"

"I _am_ fine," Aspen interrupted, though she knew that wasn't quite true. There was still something wrong with her head, and _**concussion**_ … sounded right. Like Carmine had said, though, she would heal. She always did. "There are still people who need to be protected," she continued, eyes scanning the academy grounds. "They need…"

Aspen's words fell off as something settled on her skin. It was aura, but not a sensation she had felt before. It was sharp. It was _**urgent**_. With no hesitation, Aspen ran in the direction the feeling was coming from, ignoring Ilex's shouts behind her and the wave of dizziness that accompanied her sudden movement. There was no time to pay them heed.

The scratching pain led her to a large pile of pile of rubble at the foot of one of the buildings. A sharp spike of _**panic**_ shot up through her chest into her throat. Not stopping to question the unexpected internal emotion, the girl pierced her sword into the ground and began to tear at the stones. The edges were rough and the rubble heavy, digging into her hands as she dug through and moved it. Soon, the others caught up to her and, though she could feel their confusion, they started digging with her.

Finally, as she lifted one end of a massive piece of rubble, she felt the aura she was searching for directly on her skin. Ilex was the first to react, a surge of panic and worry pouring out from him as he rushed forward. "Oh, shi— Carmine!" Holding the rubble above her head, Aspen looked down. Amidst the dirt and stone and glass lay a woman, clothes stained with blood. Dull blue eyes looked weakly up at her, accompanied by a feeling of hope and relief like a warm breath against her neck.

Then the woman closed her eyes and the warmth was gone.

"Hey, watch it!"

Aspen sank to her knees as she was swallowed in cold emptiness. The slab of stone pressed down on her, threatening to fall on her and crush the woman before the others could pull her from the pile. There was no point to it. She was already dead. They'd been too late.

Once the woman was out of the way, Aspen let the slab fall, kicking up a cloud of dust that stung her eyes. Moisture began to blur her vision as her body attempted to clear the particulates. She blinked it all away. She'd felt people dying on the colosseum but, somehow, this felt different, even from Penny's death. Maybe it was proximity, maybe it was because this woman was flesh and blood, but the coldness had felt more… absolute. It wasn't anything like what she got from killing the Grimm. Was this what Deirean sought, this coldness? Was this why he wanted to kill the humans and faunus?

A hand settled on her shoulder. The warmth of Rhys's aura seeped through her as he looked at her with concern. | _Are you sure you're okay?_ | he asked.

Aspen nodded. | _Yes._ | Physically, she was the same as before. She could push through. This, however, wasn't something they could understand, not if they weren't rephaim. Behind her, she could tell that Ilex and Carmine were working on the body, trying in vain to revive her. "Do not waste your time," she said, her own voice sounding dull in her ear. "She is dead."

After a few more moments, Ilex stood, muttering curses to himself under his breath. Carmine, however, remained kneeling. "How did you know?" he asked, anger and fear welling in his aura. "How did you know she was even here?"

Annoyance flared up in Ilex's aura as he turned on his partner. "Dammit, Carmine! This isn't the time!" His voice seemed to catch in his throat as he looked down at the body between them all. "A woman just died."`

Aspen felt Carmine's shame brush against her skin briefly before it was quickly replaced by anger. "Fine." Standing, he looked down at the woman. "We should find wherever they're evacuating from. Take her there."

"I will carry her," Aspen said, rising to her feet to move over to her. Pulling her sword from the ground and holding it in a reverse grip, she knelt beside the woman and slipped her arms beneath her.

Aspen didn't know why she felt like she had to be the one to carry this woman. It had just felt right. Now, though, holding her felt _wrong_. She was still warm, her blood still wet, but with no aura pressing out, she didn't feel real. It seemed to Aspen that if she were to drop the body, it would just disappear.

Focusing her mind away from her burden, Aspen reached out, searching for the greatest concentration of people. That would be the most likely location for the evacuation. Once she'd found it, she broke into a jog, leading her team toward their destination. As she did, she made a promise to herself. _No one else dies. Not if I can help it._

* * *

 **It's interesting that, as I get into the Battle of Beacon, I realize I don't really have a plan for what's going to happen. There are certain critical moments that need to come up, sure, but for the most part, it's all just happening. This chapter, for instance, was almost just the first two scenes which, to me, mirrored each other really well. Then I decided to flip that little "formula" I'd stumbled upon with the third scene and that ended up being almost half the chapter. That one didn't come together as easily as the first two, but I'm still happy with it.**

 **Speaking of happy, Rhys finally got a scene! Ever since I decided on how I was going to differentiate signed dialogue from spoken, I knew I wanted to flip it whenever I got around to writing from Rhys's perspective. Having quotes around spoken words doesn't really make sense when the person can't hear it, right? Happy to get to that.**

 **Happy, happy, happy. Au revoir!**


	20. Chapter 20

A White Fang attack on Beacon was exactly the type of situation Carmine had been training his entire life to deal with, Grimm and hacked mechs notwithstanding. As his father would say: "Prepare for anything." Despite that, he didn't feel prepared for any of it. He held no strong attachment to anyone or anything at Beacon, so seeing it burn only provoked as much anger as seeing the aftermath of any one of their dozens of previous attacks across Remnant. Over the years, he'd grown accustomed to the anger, a constant emotional response he could expect.

Then Aspen led them to that woman and… things changed.

Carmine looked ahead to where Aspen ran with the body, supposedly leading them to the civilian evacuation point. He'd never say it to anyone, but the woman had been familiar to him. While he had never seen her before that he could remember, she had borne some resemblance to someone he knew once, someone he'd been close to. Had it been anyone else—even his parents—he wouldn't have had any reaction, but his sister was another matter. Seeing her in that woman had rattled him, leaving him feeling more vulnerable than he had in recent memory.

That was to say nothing of his dilemma with Aspen. He knew in his heart that, somehow, she was Grimm. Compared to the White Fang, Grimm were easy. They didn't hide among the general population, waiting for the opportune moment to cause as much devastation as possible. The idea that there were Grimm out there that could do just that—because he doubted she could be the only one—alarmed him. He didn't know what Aspen's true motivations were, but she did well to make it seem as though she was actually interested in stopping this attack and protecting people. And wasn't that just—

Carmine's foot caught on something mid-stride and he slammed face-first into the ground. With a frustrated groan, he pushed himself up on his hands and knees as he regained his bearings. Looking back, he saw that he had tripped over the body of a dead mech, partially concealed in a patch of grass. He cursed to himself. _Of all the stupid things to do, I have to trip?_ As he stood up, however, he realized that it was much worse. Pain shot up his right leg as he put weight down on that foot, eliciting an involuntary hiss. _Gods_ _ **dammit**_ _!_

Evidently, both Ilex and Aspen had noticed, at least partially, what had happened and had paused to look back at him. With a scowl, he waved them off. "What? I'll be fine. Just keep going." Ilex shrugged and made to just that, but Aspen continued to stare him downat him. After a moment, though, she too turned away without comment.

Carmine let out another string of silent curses. It might've only been a minor sprain—easily manageable—but he could just imagine the dressing down his father would give him if he ever found out how he'd humiliated himself. _"You are supposed to be a hunter! A_ _ **hunter**_ _is aware of their surroundings at all times! A_ _ **hunter**_ _doesn't_ _ **trip**_ _over their own damned_ _ **feet**_ _!_ " The teen spat as he checked his gear to make sure nothing had been damaged in the fall. Aspen had put them down in a relatively secluded area from the rest of the fighting, but "relatively" was all it would take for him to be attacked and never seen again if he wasn't prepared. Everything seemed to be intact as he went through the full inventory but, as he pulled out his goggles, he saw that both lenses were cracked to the point where they would be useless. _Of frikkin' course._ Jamming the goggles back into their pouch, he pulled his weapon out and quickly tapped out an instruction into one of the rods. The rest shifted around his hand, taking the form of a staff. While he could have easily ignored the pain in his ankle and returned to running, that would only make the damage worse. Better to take at least some of the weight off and give his Aura a chance to heal it.

Before he could begin to limp after his team, however, Carmine picked up an animalistic grunting in the darkness to his left. Cautiously, he readied his staff in a combat stance. He couldn't see anything yet but, by the sounds of it, he was dealing with two, maybe three, Boarbatusks. He cursed quietly. A few Boarbatusks wouldn't normally have posed much of a threat to him but, without his goggles, he was at a serious disadvantage in the darkness. He steadied his breathing, listening intently for the inevitable attack.

All at once, the shuffling and grunting stopped. An angry snarl was the only sound Carmine heard before one of the Boarbatusks came charging out of the shadows. He quickly stepped to the side to avoid the straight-line attack, striking the Grimm in the head as it passed. It squealed in annoyance but, through the noise, Carmine heard its companions rolling toward him. On instinct, he threw himself forward, dodging one but finding himself in the path of the second. He managed to maneuver his staff in front of him to take the blow, but there was no time to properly brace himself and he was knocked back.

Carmine tumbled through the dirt, only just managing to right himself before he came to a stop. Using his staff to help lift himself back into a standing position, he eyed the three Boarbatusks before him. They had arranged themselves radially around him; the one he'd dodged to his left, the one who'd hit him in front of him, and the one he'd struck between them. They eyed him with malice, hooves stamping angrily in the dirt.

Not feeling like standing around and letting them attack at their leisure, Carmine rushed the Boarbatusk in front of him. It took several steps forward to meet him, but backed off when Carmine jabbed it in the face with his staff. He adjusted his grip on the weapon as the other two charged him, catching the middle Grimm's tusk and redirecting it into its companion. With the threat behind him dealt with for the moment, Carmine once again thrust his staff toward the Boarbatusk in front. This time, however, he struck the ground just short of the creature's snout, an intentional move that allowed him to flip the beast up into the air the moment it stepped forward. It squealed as it left the ground, but the sound was cut off by a swift jab to its throat from the staff. Carmine didn't bother to watch as the beast tumbled across the ground, wheezing through its crushed trachea as it slowly asphyxiated. There were still two others to worry about.

Said Boarbatusks had managed to right themselves and were angrier than before. With a snarl, one of them charged straight for him again. Carmine took a short running start and, being sure to push off on his uninjured foot, leapt up. Rather than clear the Grimm, however, he used it as a stepping off point, using the counter momentum to flip in mid-air. With the extra force, he brought his staff down on the other Boarbatusk's skull plate. The bone fractured under the force and the beast screamed and thrashed its head, clipping Carmine before he could land. He took the hit in stride, though, falling into a roll that let him immediately rise back to his feet.

The Boarbatusk turned around to face him, fury in its eyes and smoke seeping out from the cracks its face plate. Carmine assessed his options. _Vulnerable to piercing. Switching weapons leaves me open. Knife's too wide, not long enough to reach the brain._ His hand dipped to his side, drawing a crossbow bolt from its quiver and gripping it like a dagger. The Grimm charged forward with a squealing roar, intent on eviscerating the human in revenge. One-handed, Carmine swung his staff as he stepped aside to stop the beast from turning its head and goring him. The weapon clattered uselessly against the hard tusks, but it did its job and forced the Grimm to slow down. Reaching around the tusks, Carmine stabbed the bolt into the Boarbatusk's forehead, eliciting a scream that lingered even after he slammed the shaft home with his staff. After a few moments, however, the beast collapsed and began to evaporate. _One more._

On cue, the third Boarbatusk came spinning out of the darkness. Carmine thrust his staff toward it, halting its charge at the cost of compromising his grip on the weapon. Whether the Grimm recognized this or not, it capitalized on the situation, locking the staff between its tusks and pulling it from his hands. Unfortunately for the Boarbatusk, the weapon was so thoroughly entangled that it couldn't throw it away. Not missing the opportunity, Carmine regained his hold on the staff and, after a brief wrestling match, used its leverage to flip the Grimm onto it's back. As it squealed and struggled to right itself, Carmine swiftly drew his knife and plunged it into the beast's throat. With a whimper, its writhing ceased and its body began to smoke.

Sighing in irritation, Carmine resheathed his blade and unstuck his staff from the corpse's tusks. That fight had been loud and messy, and would almost certainly attract more Grimm. When they came, he wanted something with a little more stopping power than a staff. A few taps on the shaft caused one of the ends to shift, reorienting to form the head of a war hammer. It had the same amount of mass, of course, but the shape would concentrate the force more effectively. Allowing that end to fall to the ground, he leaned on the haft for support as he walked. It would be a simple matter to ready himself if need be.

"Human!"

 _Oh, for the love of…_

(- -)

Beacon burned gloriously in Cinder's eyes. From where she stood atop one of the academic buildings, she could see all the little children running about, attempting to save their precious school. It was a foolish notion. Try as they might, there would be no stopping what was coming. She smiled to herself. "Beautiful."

Beside her, Emerald shared the opposite sentiment. "It's almost sad."

Cinder resisted the urge to laugh. The thief may have felt some sympathy for the students, but they both knew where her loyalties lay. "It's horrendous," she agreed, tilting her head toward Mercury on her other side. "Focus on the Atlesian Knights."

Unlike Emerald, Mercury took no small pleasure in the events below. "Oh, I'm getting it all," he said, focusing his scroll on a group of soldiers exchanging fire with their own mechs.

"Good. Continue the broadcast until the end." It wouldn't be long. Grimm would be crawling all over the city by now, and with Atlas's toy soldiers turned against them, whatever meager defenses Vale had remaining would be unable to quell the mass panic that only drew more Grimm to them. That vicious irony would be their undoing, and all she had to do… was wait.

…

…

This… This wasn't right. Cinder walked to the edge of the rooftop. In the distance, she could make out the ruins of Mountain Glenn, lit by the low-hanging moon. _It should have awoken by now._ Had Salem been wrong? Cinder knew better than to question her mistress, so if something had gone wrong, it had been with her own plan. Turning around, she pulled Mercury's scroll from his hands. She ignored his confused protest, cycling through the various broadcasts around the city. Rather than Grimm rampaging through the streets, however, she saw only a few scattered groups, all of which were being dealt with effectively by the city's defenders. With so few Grimm, even the Atlesian Knights weren't presenting much of a threat.

 _This doesn't make sense._ There should have been hundreds of Grimm in the surrounding areas, far more than were currently attacking. It was almost as if they were ignoring the negativity across Beacon and Vale entirely. _The rephaim._ Salem had said they were the ancestors of the Grimm. Perhaps they possessed some means of controlling them, then? Her information on their species was limited but, if they were as similar to the beasts as they seemed, it was possible they could influence them in a similar manner to Alphas and Majors. Deluded as Aspen was about becoming a Huntress, it was almost certain that Deirean was the one responsible.

The scroll cracked in Cinder's fist, the metal warped by heat. She should have finished him off when she had the chance. Casting the ruined device aside, the woman turned her gaze back to the school to see Ozpin at the base of the tower. She narrowed her eyes as the implications of his presence became clear. "Go," she said, dismissing Emerald and Mercury. "Your work here is done. I'll find you when I'm finished." The two nodded obediently and left.

She would claim the power that was rightfully hers, and then she would use it to destroy the rephaim.

(- -)

Grimm. That was something Aspen could understand. They were driven by instinct, trying to kill something that was causing them pain. She was familiar with that pain and could sympathize with that desire, but she had made the decision to bear that pain and protect Mankind instead of harm them, even if that meant killing the Grimm. They may have been her kind once, but Deirean had made it clear that they were no longer the same. Even the "mechs," as Ilex had called them, she could rationalize as an enemy. They were machines, no sentient will of their own. They had been turned against their creators with no choice in the matter, and there was nothing to regret in destroying them. Faunus and humans fighting each other, however, she didn't know how to handle.

She'd followed the large cluster of auras, expecting to find a place she could take the dead woman's body to be taken care of but, as they'd gotten closer, they'd found a group of soldiers pinned down by over a dozen faunus. She felt anger and rage from the latter group manifesting itself in cruel satisfaction as they fired on the men and women hiding behind whatever meager cover they could find. They wore a common white-and-black uniform marked with a red wolf's head and claw marks, as well as facemasks that seemed designed to evoke a Grimm of some kind, judging by the red stripes over the eye slits.

How was she supposed to handle this? Ozpin had said that Huntresses were supposed to protect people, but these were _people_ attacking other people and she didn't even know why. They were clearly motivated by anger, but she didn't know the reasons behind that anger.

Before Aspen could fully process the situation, one of the masked faunus turned and pointed at her. "Kill the humans and the traitors!" On her order, several of the other faunus drew swords and axes and charged her, Rhys, and Ilex.

 _Traitors?_ Not having time to try to parse out what the woman had meant, Aspen focused her attention on the nearest opponents. A pair of men wielding swords had chosen her to attack and, looking down at the woman in her arms, she could understand why. Carrying the body prevented her from using her own sword and made her vulnerable, so she dropped it. Surprise skittered across her skin like a spider as one of the faunus hesitated, giving her an opening to kick him in the chest as she blocked the other's sword with her own. Pushing the blade away, the girl reached up to grab the man by the back of the head and brought it crashing down into her knee. The man's entire body flashed a dull blue before the mask cracked and he slumped to the ground. Aspen looked down at the man in confusion, then to the one she had kicked. Neither moved.

 _Oh._

These white-clothed faunus weren't like Laurel or Oliver or even the Grimm. Attacks she had intended to stun had instead knocked them unconscious, judging by their feeble auras. They were weak, weaker than soldiers should be. What kind of force were they supposed to be?

 _ **Kill them. They don't deserve to live.**_

Aspen pushed her internal voice aside to reassess the situation. Ilex and Rhys had moved away from her and had also been engaged by the militant faunus. There was an unusual aggression in Rhys's aura accompanying his typical glee as he launched himself at three opponents at once. Like her, he seemed to understand their relative strength and was fighting with his bare hands, even using his tail as a blunt weapon. Ilex's aura, on the other hand, had that same dull fear she'd felt all night as he weaved around a woman's wild axe swings, but it was also tinged with the same frustrations Rhys had, directed at the other faunus.

Four more auras moved her way and Aspen turned to face them. Two men and a woman carrying swords, staggered so that they wouldn't reach her at the same time, covered by a third man with a gun who hung back. Keeping her reverse grip on her sword, Aspen charged forward to meet the soldiers. The first one swung at her in a downward arc aimed where her neck met her shoulder. She moved faster than him, though, and was inside his guard before the blade even came close to touching her. With her free hand latching onto his wrist, she dipped down and flipped him over her opposite shoulder. He landed face-first with a grunt, but a swift blow to the back of the head from the hilt of her sword silenced him in a flash of green.

The woman was the next to reach her. Yelling, she made to stab the kneeling girl in the chest. Aspen quickly rose to her feet and deflected the blade with her own. A hard strike to the woman's outstretched wrist knocked the sword from her hand, and a roundhouse kick to the head sent her to the ground with a pop of yellow.

The man with the gun fired a burst at Aspen, but she was already moving as he pulled the trigger. Dipping under the third swordsman's attack, she grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up. She felt a brief stab of fear from his aura before she slammed him into the stone walkway. His body sparked a pale red and then stilled as he fell unconscious. Without pause, she pressed on toward the final man. Fear spiked off of him as he began to fire wildly at her, and a bullet struck her in the shoulder. Aspen's sword flashed out and the man's gun fell to the ground in two pieces. He stumbled backward, but Aspen caught him by the collar of his hooded shirt. Even through his mask, she could see the terror on his face.

 _ **Slit his throat.**_

Growling, Aspen slammed her head into his. The mask cracked and his body slackened as he fell into unconsciousness. Letting him fall to the group in a heap, Aspen looked around again. Between Rhys, Ilex, and the human soldiers, the rest of the hostile faunus had been dealt with. It took some focus, but she could tell that they were all still alive as well, though most were unconscious. With no other targets to worry about, she reached up to her shoulder to pull out the bullet that had hit her. The physical pain was a welcome change from the throb in her head and intangible pain of auras, though once the bullet was extracted, she could feel the wound begin to seal itself. Satisfied that she was otherwise uninjured, she returned to the dead woman and lifted her up again.

As Aspen turned back toward the soldiers, she noticed that most of them were looking at her with a mixture of discomfort and suspicion. Even as she walked into their midst, they merely stared at her. She cocked her head in confusion. "Is this where the evacuation is?" she asked no one in particular. Some of the soldiers jumped when she spoke, nervously gripping their guns tighter. Aspen frowned. What was going on?

One of the men stepped closer to her. "Evac is further north," he said, pointing further in the direction she, Rhys, and Ilex had been travelling. "The woman…" There was trepidation in his voice, and she could feel his nervousness. "Is she injured?"

"She is dead."

The man swallowed and nodded. "I see. Well, we'll take her from here. You just… keep doing what you're doing." He waved his arm toward two of the other soldiers in a beckoning manner. Their hesitation was like thorns against Aspen's skin, but she passed the woman off to them when they did come over.

"Wait." The men paused, as did Aspen. Death was… not an event to be celebrated among her kind, particularly in combat. She didn't know what human customs for the dead were, but somewhere in her mind she knew that the rephaim had one. Words, reserved for the very old, came unbidden to her tongue as she laid a hand on the woman's forehead. " _Dach son alek veross ch'hadi son._ "

A ripple of fear moved through the three men, and she withdrew in confusion. "Why are you afraid of me?" she asked, causing all three to stiffen. Had they known what she was, she could understand their fear, but she could not think of what else she might've done to warrant it. Had she somehow given herself away with her words? It seemed unlikely. They stood there for several seconds, and Aspen thought for a moment that the one she'd been speaking to was about to answer. Instead, he excused himself and the others and walked away, leaving her to stand alone with her teammates.

A cold hand settled on her arm, but when she turned her head to look, it quickly pulled away. "I'm…" Ilex started, eyes flicking back the way they had come. He was nervous. "I'm going to go back and make sure Carmine's alright." He smiled at her, but Aspen could sense his fear and false _**bravado**_ clearly. "If there's more of these guys out there, he's probably going to need help, even if he doesn't want it."

Once again, Aspen felt something under his counterfeit emotions. It wasn't warm like before, but it _was_ genuine. Contrary to the way he spoke and acted in regards to his partner, Ilex was actually worried that Carmine might be in danger. It was an odd moment, feeling something from his aura that wasn't cold, and it puzzled her.

Ilex scratched his ear nervously, apparently uncomfortable with the way she was staring at him. "So, uh, are you okay with that?"

 _ **Crush his skull.**_

"As you say," Aspen said with a nod. While there was some relief in Ilex's aura, it was dominated by fear as he ran off into the dark. Refocusing her mind to her surroundings, Aspen tapped Rhys on the shoulder to get his attention. | _Who are these people?_ | she asked, gesturing toward the white-clad faunus being rounded up by the soldiers.

| _White Fang._ | Rhys answered before looking at her with confusion.| _Do you not know them?_ | Aspen shook her head, and the boy scowled. | _ **Terrorists**_ _. Trying to make humans like faunus by shooting them and blowing them up. Doesn't work too well._ |

Aspen looked down at one of the nearby White Fang members. _**Terrorist**_ _…_ The concept didn't completely translate in her mind, but she could make assumptions, and they weren't good. She scowled at the unconscious man. | _They are weak._ |

Rhys laughed at her statement, but his face turned more serious than she was accustomed to seeing. | _These are the people they just give guns and swords to. No training, just send them in to die or get captured. There are more dangerous ones, ones that are a lot stronger._ |

Aspen nodded slowly. If what Rhys was telling her was true, then she was beginning to understand the White Fang's motivations, even if they did not make sense to her. While she didn't think that Rhys would have all the answers she wanted, something did come to mind that took precedence. | _That woman called you and Ilex traitors._ | That was the only possible meaning Aspen could think of for her statement, presuming she and the dead woman were the "humans."| _Why would she do that?_ |

The boy looked up at her in confusion for a moment, then scoffed. | _White Fang think that any faunus that help humans are traitors._ | He made a grimacing face. | _Guilty by association. No offence._ | Aspen kept her hands still, finding the answer acceptable. When he saw she had nothing else to say, Rhys asked, | _Now what?_ |

| _We keep fighting._ |

The boy laughed and followed her as she ran out toward another cluster of auras.

* * *

 **Well, this was really something to write. I mentioned it a bit last chapter that I'm essentially going through this arc by the seat of my pants, and this chapter's no different. I have places I want to get to and things I want to accomplish, but I didn't exactly think about how I wanted to get there beforehand. Like, my plan for this chapter was "Carmine scene, Cinder scene, Aspen scene." That's about it. Somehow I got the above.**

…

 **Talking about my struggles with writing has become a bit of a thing with me, hasn't it? Okay, I'm going to try to get away from that from here on because otherwise I'm going to be saying the same thing every chapter.**

 **On the actual contents of** _ **this**_ **chapter, there are a lot of moving parts in different places, and I want to give them all their due attention. Here we have Carmine having some layers peeled off and Ilex heading toward an unpleasant situation with him, Cinder continuing with her plans despite the dragon failing to arrive, and Aspen struggling with so, so much, not least of which is her own murderous thoughts. We'll see where all this leads in future chapters.**

 **For now, I shall simply bid you au revoir!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello, everyone! You may not realize it, but this chapter is coming out a day early (I like to post on Saturdays, for no reason in particular other than that's how I started doing it). The reason for that is that a friend of mine, Recycler—who I've mentioned before—is turning twenty today. So, this is a little bit of a gift for him. Happy Birthday, man!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Ilex crept through the darkness, trying to make as little noise as possible despite the sounds of gunfire and roaring in the distance. _Better safe than sorry._ What the hell had come over him, trying to impress Aspen by volunteering to go back for Carmine? As if she'd cared the last dozen times he'd tried to impress her. _Stupid…._ He and Carmine didn't even like each other, and now he was out looking for him where he could get attacked by Grimm or White Fang at any moment.

Ahead of him, he picked up the faint sound of voices. _Why did I have to be right?_ Ilex cursed silently and lowered himself to reduce his visibility as he continued forward. As he did, the voices became more distinct.

" _You think just because you outnumber me that you have the advantage?_ " Oh, that was Carmine, alright. He was just coming into view, and Ilex could see that he was talking to a group of five White Fang soldiers. They seemed to be focused on Carmine, though, so Ilex began to circle around behind them. Their masks couldn't have offered much in the way of peripheral vision so, hopefully, he'd be able to catch them by surprise and take at least one or two of them out.

"You think thathaving your Aura unlocked makes us equals?" Carmine laughed, a sound that made even Ilex's skin crawl. He paused to cast a look at his partner from the side. For as long as he'd known Carmine, he'd never been like this. Sure, he could be a dick, but this was... "It just means I have to push a little harder to kill you."

 _ **Sadistic**_. Yeah, that was the word.

Carmine's words seemed to be having an effect on the White Fang as well. They looked around at one another nervously until one of them stepped forward, pointing his sword at the teen. "You're bluffing," he said, though the tremor in his voice wasn't entirely convincing. "You wouldn't kill us."

"And why not?" Carmine asked, eyes fixed intently on the man who had spoken. "It wouldn't be the first time I've taken a life."

A shiver ran down Ilex's spine, but he soon realized what his partner was doing. _He_ _ **is**_ _bluffing, psyching them out._ He smirked, though he wasn't entirely sure of himself. _He's keeping them focused on him so I can get behind them. Even if he doesn't know I'm here, it's still keeping them off-balance. Yeah, that must be it._

The tactic was certainly effective. Several of the White Fang stepped back at the claim, looking to the man who had been speaking to Carmine. "What are you idiots doing? He's bluffing!" he said, though it lacked confidence. "Attack him!"

"You know what? I'm going to take you out first," Carmine said with a sneer, pointing at the man. "Then you, and you, and you," he continued, gesturing to each of the faunus in turn before settling on the most frightened-looking terrorist, "and lastly, _you_."

 _That's my cue._ Having circled all the way around the group, Ilex shot the miniature grappling line in his bracer out toward the final White Fang soldier. As soon as the hook found purchase, he yanked back, dragging the man screaming into the darkness. Ilex had to swat aside his flailing arms, but a swift blow to the head knocked the man out.

In the ensuing confusion, Carmine shot forward with his hammer. True to his word, he focused on the man who had spoken first, jamming the butt of the weapon into his stomach. The man doubled over, the air was knocked from his lungs, but Carmine didn't give him a chance to catch it again as he clotheslined him with the hammer. He was still falling when Carmine hit him again, batting him aside into another terrorist and sending them tumbling into the darkness. A third made to point her pistol at him, but the weapon went skittering across the ground when the hammer made contact with her arm. That single blow was enough to cause her aura to break with a dull purple flash, and from there it was a simple matter of sweeping her legs to take her out of the fight.

Reeling in his grappling wire, Ilex charged toward the final terrorist. To his credit, the man decided to go down fighting, running to meet the seemingly-unarmed teen with his sword. Just before they met, Ilex dipped to the side, using his Semblance to leave a cloud of yellow, Dust-infused gas in his wake. The man's expression was one of confusion as his sword cut through the space where Ilex should have been. With a smirk, Ilex snapped out the flint ignitor in his bracer and lit the gas. The man was knocked clean off his feet by the resulting explosion, convulsing as the residue from the Lightning Dust arced across his body.

Satisfied, Ilex straightened to face his partner who was leaning on his weapon with a scowl on his face. "Well, that went well," he said to Carmine's clear annoyance. He chuckled. "You know, you almost had _me_ convinced that you were going to—"

"Shut up," Carmine growled.

Ilex rolled his eyes at the expected behavior. Of course Carmine wouldn't appreciate having his ass pulled out of the fire, especially when he was injured. From the strained look on his face, he must have been hurting pretty badly. "Come on, man…"

Then he heard it, something shuffling in the shadows behind him. He spun around, ears twitching reflexively to better locate the sound. As he backed toward Carmine, he couldn't help feeling a little foolish. There were still Grimm out there, and even Carmine wouldn't be so petty as to hold onto a grudge in the middle of a situation like this. Thinking about it, whatever was stalking them had probably been attracted to the White Fang, as terrified as he and Carmine had made them.

"Can you see it?" Carmine asked, shifting his weapon to a ready stance.

Ilex strained, trying to pick anything out of the darkness. "No, I can't." The distant sound of something collapsing caused his ear to twitch, but he couldn't hear anything nearby. "What about your goggles?" he asked, keeping his voice low. "Maybe with the extra night vision I could see it?"

Carmine let out a frustrated sigh. "That's not how they work. Besides, don't you think I'd be using them now if I could?"

 _Translation: They're broken. You could have just said that._

Something cracked behind them and Ilex whirled around to see an enormous set of jaws coming straight for him. In a panic, he threw himself to the side to get out of the way. Carmine, however, hadn't had nearly as much warning as Ilex had and was clipped by the Grimm's bulky frame. Fortunately, the beast seemed more interested in adopting a hit-and-run tactic than finishing them off quickly, giving Carmine a chance to get back on his feet.

While the Grimm retreated back into the darkness, Ilex moved back next to Carmine. By the looks of him, his aura had stopped any real damage, but it hadn't done anything for his temper. "Next time, maybe give me a little warning?" he growled.

Ilex nodded, feeling a little sheepish. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Did you at least see what it was?" Carmine asked, resuming his watch for another attack.

"Beowolf, big one." It was the same type Aspen had killed so easily back on the colosseum. It was enough to make him genuinely wish she was there. "Alpha, I think."

Carmine let off a string of curses under his breath before adjusting his grip on his weapon. He tapped it a couple of times and the shape of the end shifted to become a spearhead. Aside from that, however, Ilex couldn't hear anything. _How can a Beowolf that big be this quiet?_ He jumped as Carmine turned and the end of his spear bumped his leg, but neither addressed it as they focused on locating the Grimm. _For that matter, since when do they use strategy? This thing is smart, way smarter than it has any right to be._

 _There's no way we can kill it._

 _ **We have to.**_

One of the shadows moved off to his right. "There!" he shouted, pointing just as the Beowolf leapt out at them again. This time, they were both able to get out of the way, and Carmine was even able to get a hit in with his spear. A jubilant laugh escaped Ilex's throat as the Grimm vanished back into the shadows. "Haha! Yeah! I can't believe that worked!"

"Keep it down," Carmine growled, predictably killing the mood. "I only nicked it. It'll take a lot more than that to kill it, and we don't need you attracting anything else to our position." Ilex grumbled, but grudgingly admitted to himself that his partner was right. Still, he was feeling more confident than he had been. They returned to their attentive position, subconsciously placing their backs to one another. "Be more specific when you call out its position," Carmine said quietly, though it was clear he wasn't chastising Ilex for his previous strategy. "In front of you is twelve o'clock, and behind you is six."

The white-haired teen nodded. "Like a clock. Got it." After a moment he added, "That's a pretty clever system." Behind him, he sensed Carmine glance over his shoulder. "Joking, sorry. Clearly not the time for it." The other teen just made a disgusted noise and turned back.

Ilex returned his attention to the predator lurking in the shadows, no doubt circling them as it looked for an opening. If the two previous attacks were anything to go by, that would be the direction he was facing. That thought brought an odd sense of calm with it, given the situation. He was the weak link, handicapped by his choice of weapon, but that was the point, wasn't it? At a glance, he was unarmed, completely defenseless, and anyone who looked at him as such would already be at a disadvantage. If this Grimm was smart enough to pick him out as the weak side, it was smart enough to underestimate him. He just needed to figure out a way to use that information.

"Two o'clock!"

The Beowolf leapt out at him, jaws wide and claws ready to tear. Ilex rolled aside, and the beast howled as it passed over them. Jumping back to his feet, the teen turned in time to see the shadowy creature hit the ground clumsily, Carmine's spear tearing free from its leg as it rolled. Turning to snarl at them, it fled back into the darkness.

As they once again returned to their defensive position, Ilex's ear twitched as he picked up a new sound. It was almost rhythmic, like something dragged through the dirt every other second. He turned toward it, focusing intently on the source. There was another sound with it, a low popping noise. The sound of a Beowolf struggling to control its growl. _It's mad. Carmine hurt it and now it's limping and it's mad._ Tapping his partner on the shoulder, Ilex pointed out toward the Beowolf. "There."

When Carmine turned his spear toward the sounds, however, they stopped altogether. The pair waited for almost a minute, staring out into the emptiness. They couldn't see it, but Ilex knew it was still there. Sure enough, the dragging started again, circling around to Ilex's side. He turned to follow it, keeping his eyes on the spot where it should have been. The sound stopped again.

"This isn't working," Carmine hissed. "As long as it thinks we know where it is, it's not going to attack."

Ilex bit his lip, once again having to agree with his partner's assessment. This Beowolf was relying on surprise to launch its attacks. If they kept looking at it, it would just keep circling them. It might be patient enough to wait all night if it had to, and that wasn't really a test of endurance Ilex wanted to take part in. They needed to draw it to them, end it quick, but how?

"Carmine," Ilex said, voice shaking, "you've got my back, right?"

"If it gets us out of here alive."

 _Oh, "us." That's nice._ "Okay, I'm going to do something really dumb. Next time it attacks, get out of the way." The other teen was silent for a moment, but eventually grunted in assent. The Beowolf began to limp again, but this time Ilex didn't follow it. By now, his heart was racing, and he almost missed the tell-tale scratching of claws on dirt as the Grimm pounced. "Eleven!"

As the beast filled his vision, Ilex felt Carmine fall away like he'd been instructed. The faunus teen bent his knees and braced for the impact, just in time to be knocked off his feet. Air exploded from his lungs as the Beowolf landed on top of him, howling in pain. In its chest were both of Ilex's blades, buried deep under the creature's own weight. As the Grimm seethed and snapped at him, the teen pushed back. Time seemed to slow, and he found that he wasn't as afraid as he thought he would have been. There was too much adrenaline running through his system to be afraid.

Suddenly, the beast's head wrenched to the side with a gurgling hiss. Against the flame-lit clouds above, Ilex could just make out the shape of Carmine's spear, protruding through the Beowolf's neck. The Grimm began to evaporate, shedding enough mass that Ilex was able to shove its body off of himself and climb back to his feet. The two teens stood there, waving away the smoke as they caught their breath. _Holy shit. We just did that._

Rolling his shoulders, Carmine planted his weapon into the dirt to lean against it. Ilex met his eyes and, for once, he didn't see hostility or scorn in them. Just… respect. Carmine quickly hardened his expression, though, and looked away. "We never speak of this."

Ilex grimaced. While his act of stupidity had ironically been out of self-preservation, it could easily be misconstrued as self-sacrifice, and that would really hurt the image he was going for. Keeping things quiet sounded good. "I can live with that."

(- -)

Rhys was in absolute heaven. Gunfire, explosions, and lumbering mechs shook the air around him, impacting the very core of his being. He could only imagine what the sensation of their sounds would have been like. He grinned. Surely, it would have been _marvelous_. None of the other students around him had any idea what it was like to live in a world of no sound. They usually complained when things were too "loud." He doubted any of them would complain if they were like him.

Weapon raised, Rhys charged headlong into a group of Creeps. He could feel the concussive force of one of the foreign students' weapons pass over him—if a trumpet could even be called a weapon—but it only served to push him into the fray that much faster. One of the Creeps, flinching against the powerful soundwave, turned to paste beneath Rhys's attack. Another was sent flying limply by his weapon while another was knocked aside by his fist. Moving through a break in the trumpet-student's cover, two more Creeps leapt at him. Rhys giggled to himself as he activated his Semblance and fired a rocket directly into the ground in front of him.

The blast sent him flying, but it also killed all three of the Grimm. Rhys rolled back up to his feet as he deactivated his Semblance, looking for where he could go next. Spotting a line of Knights, he hoisted his weapon up and charged forward. They were so focused on trading fire with some other students that they didn't even notice him as he plowed into them. One, two, three, four were turned into scrap as he ran through them, the last of which he sent flying as he came to a stop. The remainder of the mechs turned to point their weapons at him, only to be cut to pieces as Aspen dashed through them. Grinning, Rhys gave her a wave, to which she responded with a cock of her head. Rhys laughed. _Good enough._

Aspen's attention was drawn to an Ursa harassing another group of students, and she ran off toward it. Not about to let his partner have all the fun, Rhys followed after her, only to be surprised when she came to a complete stop just before the Ursa, allowing him to pass in front. He soon figured out why as the Grimm swung a massive paw down on him. Whatever bones an Ursa had in its front leg were all fractured as it met the rising metal of Rhys's weapon. The beast reeled back as it roared in pain, and then Aspen was there, cutting deep into its hind legs with her sword. The Ursa fell forward onto its one uninjured leg. With a wide smile, Rhys slung his weapon onto his back and approached the fallen Grimm. _Always wanted to do this._ Grabbing it on either side of its head, Rhys activated his Semblance again and smashed it into his own. Semblance or no Semblance, he still felt the impact reverberate through his body. It hurt, but it also felt _awesome_.

Cackling, Rhys turned away from the fallen Grimm, uncaring if it was still alive. There was no more challenge in killing it, so he'd let someone else deal with in. Now, he wanted to find something else to kill. His wish came true in the form of a Griffon landing on the stone walkway not far from him. Charging straight in hadn't failed him yet, so Rhys ran toward the Grimm with the intent to crush whatever part of it he could.

Unfortunately, the Griffon had a strong instinct for not getting crushed. With a flap of its wings, it moved itself just out of his reach, leaving him stumbling as he threw himself off-balance. His eyes widened in panic as it lunged forward, and only by activating his Semblance on instinct was he able to stop from being completely crushed as its beak closed down on him. The protection could only last as long as the drain on his Aura allowed, however, and with how much he'd been using it that evening, that wasn't long.

A strangled yell escaped his throat as his Aura failed and the sharp edges of the Griffon's beak dug into his skin. _No! Not now! There's still more fighting!_ Flailing about, he struck the Grimm in the face several times but, at the angle he was being held and without his Aura, it wasn't nearly enough to make it release him. The ground beneath him disappeared as the Griffon picked him up—

—and then was suddenly underneath him again as he was released. Wait, no. He hadn't been released. He'd fallen, along with the Griffon's head. He briefly opened his eyes only to flinch as two pairs of hands pried the beak open and pulled it off of him. Everything stung and hurt and ached, but he didn't think he was seriously injured. Then again, he hadn't fully opened his eyes yet.

When he did, he saw the Trumpet Guy kneeling beside him, looking over his wounds, none of which were, in fact, serious. Behind him, Aspen and Ruby were standing next to each other, Aspen holding the smoking Griffon head and Ruby looking down at him nervously. "You okay?" she carefully signed.

Rhys grimaced as he lifted his hands to respond. "I'll be alright." He'd had worse physical injuries, though his ego had taken a bigger blow. _I can't believe I almost got eaten._ And it had to be in front of everyone, too. Stupid of him… Now he couldn't fight anymore.

The Griffon head fell to the ground in a rapidly decaying pile of smoke as Aspen crouched down beside Trumpet Guy. She looked Rhys over curiously, scanning his face and the injuries on his body. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all. I'm fine."

Aspen narrowed her eyes. "You are… embarrassed."

Rhys frowned. Figures she wouldn't miss something like that. Behind him, he could feel the rumbling of combat continuing without them, and he looked over his shoulder anxiously. Velvet, one of the older students, was fighting two of the giant Atlesian mechs. Rhys had never seen her weapon before, but it turned out she had _all_ the weapons! Frustrated, the teen slapped his hands on the ground. "I'm out of Aura. I can't fight anymore."

Aspen furrowed her brow. "I don't understand."

Rhys huffed in frustration. What was so hard to understand? "I used it all up," he explained, shameful tears welling in his eyes, made only worse by the embarrassment of crying in public, like he was a child. "I need my Aura to fight. Without it, I can't… _fight_. I can't…" He twisted around again to the twin mechs, expecting to see Velvet still fighting them. Instead, one was already destroyed and the other was being held at bay by a _giant white sword_ floating in the air above Ruby's partner, making everything that much worse. "I can't do _that!_ "

At that, Aspen actually scowled. Grabbing him by the front of his robe, she dragged him to his feet despite his hisses of pain. | _If you want to fight, then fight._ | Startled by her choice to speak rather than sign, Rhys only stared dumbly as she lifted Bullrush with one hand and transformed it. The rocket launcher was then shoved into his arms, freeing Aspen to sign again. "Don't make excuses." As she stepped past him to join the others, Rhys gingerly lifted his weapon to his shoulder. He hated the way it felt when he was low on Aura like this, like it was twice as heavy as it normally was. It made him feel weak. Aspen didn't know him well enough to call it an excuse, but… maybe she was right.

A hand clapped him on the arm, and he lowered Bullrush again to see Trumpet Guy giving him a approving look. To his surprise, he tucked his trumpet under his arm and lifted his hands to sign. "Can't say I've ever seen anyone use 'blow themselves up' as a strategy before, but you made it work. I dig it." With a wink, he followed after Aspen, leaving Rhys with a confused smile on his face. Ruby was the only one still with him at that point, and she gave him a small smile when he looked at her. She tilted her head toward the others, and he nodded. He still felt terrible, but it wasn't like this night could get any worse, right?

(- -)

Weiss had never felt so drained before. Instinct born from a strict upbringing told her to hide it and show strength, but she didn't have the energy to waste. Her exhaustion went beyond just the effects of low Aura. Summoning even just a part of that knight had drained so much from her and left her feeling weak. It was all she could do to not fall over, even placing all of her weight on Myrtenaster.

Underneath her exhaustion, however, she felt ecstatic. She had finally summoned! It hadn't been intentional and she hadn't exactly had control over it or even destroyed the Paladin, but that did nothing to diminish the pride she felt. Even the Paladin shutting down mid-battle didn't concern her, since it meant that Atlas had retaken control of their battleship. She would have expected nothing less.

"Weiss!" The heiress didn't think she could ever be so happy to hear the sound of Yang's voice. She tried to straighten up to address her teammate, but ultimately settled with just turning her head. "You're okay!" the blonde exclaimed as she ran up. "Have you seen Ruby?"

"I'm here, Yang!" Ruby called out. Weiss tilted her head the other way to see her partner approaching, alongside a familiar looking faunus. She knew his name was similar to Ruby's but, at the moment, she was too tired to remember it.

Predictably, Yang rushed over to her sister, scooping her into a hug that the younger girl returned. "I'm so glad you're alright!" After a moment, the two pulled away and Yang's face turned solemn. "I saw what happened to Penny. I'm sorry."

Ruby's expression fell. "Yeah. me too."

Biting her lip, Yang began to look around. "What about Blake? Where is she?"

Wearily, Weiss lifted her arm and pointed in the direction the fourth member of their team had headed. "She went after an Alpha," she informed them, "and some members of the White Fang."

"White Fang." The words hadn't been a question or a simple reiteration of Weiss's words. They had been a statement of fact. The group's collective attention turned toward Aspen. She had been standing in silence a few feet away from the other students, eyes closed as she seemed to be trying to listen for something. At the mention of the terrorist group, however, she had taken an interest in the conversation. "They are still out there," she said, walking over to them. " _They_ … are dangerous." Weiss would have scoffed if she hadn't been so tired. She didn't think anyone there needed to be told how dangerous those criminals were, certainly not by Aspen of all people.

Yang shook her head. "I'm not leaving Blake out there on her own." She looked toward their group. "You guys stay here. I'll go look for her." _That_ wasn't something Weiss was going to argue with.

"No." Aspen, on the other hand… "You don't understand. If you go out there, the White Fang will kill you."

"No, _you_ don't understand!" Yang turned on Aspen, eyes turning red and hair glowing with anger. She pointed her arm out toward Beacon. "My partner is out there! If she needs my help, I'm not going to abandon her just because I'm afraid I might get hurt!"

The two glared at one another, blood-red eyes mirrored between them. For a moment, Weiss feared it might come to blows, but then Aspen grimaced. It wasn't because of Yang, though. Rather, it seemed as if she'd suddenly been struck by a great, debilitating pain. Whatever it was, when she recovered, her will appeared to have only strengthened, yet she attempted to compromise nonetheless. "I will come with you."

Despite herself, Weiss couldn't help but let out a derisive laugh. "Do you really think we trust you enough to let you go alone with her?" she asked, finding the strength to straighten herself up. "In case you forgot, you tried to kill us the first time we met." A half-hearted apology wasn't going to wipe that away.

Aspen glared at her, then looked down in shame. "I did not want to hurt you. I… lost control, and I am trying not to—" She cut herself off with a shake of her head, then looked up at Yang. "You will have a better chance of finding your partner if I am with you."

Yang narrowed her eyes, but acquiesced. "Fine. If you want to come, come, but I'm not going to waste any more time standing around here arguing about it." Casting one last look at her sister, the blonde turned and ran off in search of Blake.

As Aspen followed her, Ruby called out, "Stay safe!"

Yang continued unabated, but the black-haired girl stopped and looked back at them. There was a grim look on her face, one that gave Weiss pause. "It is not my safety you should be worried about," she said. Despite everything she'd done, it didn't sound like a threat. To Weiss, it sounded like she was saying, " _If something happens, I tried to warn you._ "

And then they were gone.

* * *

 **There's darkness on the horizon, and it's coming quick.**

 **On a lighter note, Ilex and Carmine finally got their act at least somewhat together. I bounced around on how I wanted certain parts of that scene to go, such as when to bring in the Beowolf and whether or not Ilex putting himself in danger and taking the hit took away from Carmine putting aside his prejudices. I think the final product works well.**

 **As for the rest of the chapter, I initially planned on doing it from one character's perspective, but I couldn't figure out whose it would be. Obviously, I wound up splitting it between Rhys and Weiss. I think it fleshes them out, and helps better establish what their relationships with Aspen will be like.**

 **That's all I've got for now. I'll see you in the next chapter! Au revoir!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey, so, quick note before this chapter. Y'all remember when I said this story was probably going to get bumped up to an M rating at some point? Well, this is that point. To be clear, this isn't a particularly gory chapter at all, and I don't plan on the, ah, "quality" of the content going forward changing as a result of the rating change. Actually, my decision for the T rating was based less on gore than it was on the violence itself. There have been several moments that have certainly pushed against my personal rating boundary but, at this point, I think the amount of violence in this story justifies the change to M. Again, the violence and gore won't be getting any worse going forward so, hopefully, this won't turn anyone off from continuing to read because I honestly think this and the next chapter are the best this story has ever been. Enjoy!**

* * *

Pyrrha and Jaune ran out of Beacon Tower, the sounds of devastating combat hundreds of feet below faintly audible through the elevator shaft behind them. Pyrrha's mind was racing, her thoughts muddled as she tried to process what had just happened. The transfer had failed. The Fall Maiden was dead—no, there was a _new_ Fall Maiden, and now she was fighting Ozpin. The attack on the school had been her doing, flushing them out so she could take the rest of the power that she had tried to steal before.

"Okay, I think I have Glynda's number," Jaune said as they came to a stop, pulling out his scroll. "Oh, where is it?" As he fumbled with the device, Pyrrha turned back to look at the tower, feeling a sense of helplessness and guilt sinking in her chest. If only she had been more decisive, accepted sooner… "Pyrrha," Jaune said, breaking her out of her thoughts, "what was all of that?"

Her gaze fell. He deserved to know, but… how was she supposed to tell him? "I—"

Any explanation she might've come up with was cut off as a particularly loud explosion shook the tower behind them. They turned back in time to see a flaming streak shoot up through the elevator they had just been on. The source of the flames was clear. _She… She beat the Headmaster,_ Pyrrha realized with horror.

Beside her, Jaune came to the same conclusion. "But… Ozpin…"

"There's no time," Pyrrha said with a shake of her head. She turned her focus to Jaune. "Go." The words were difficult, but she needed to say them. She couldn't put him in danger. "Get to Vale and get help."

"Huh? What are you going to do?" Jaune asked. Pyrrha's heart ached as she kept a determined face. His cluelessness had been what had endeared her to him in the first place, but now it was just making things harder. She turned her head back to the tower, and he finally realized her intentions. "No… no, Pyrrha, you can't!"

Couldn't she, though? No, she supposed she probably couldn't. Despite however much talent or skill she had, the chances that she would be able to defeat this woman—the woman who had bested _Ozpin_ —were slim to none, but Pyrrha knew that if she was allowed to escape, she would hurt more people. _"We are to be Huntresses. We are supposed to_ _ **protect**_ _people."_ That girl on the colosseum had been right. Pyrrha might not have been able to stop the woman herself, but she could at least stall until someone who was able arrived. It was her duty as a huntress. If Jaune would just go get help, she could hold the woman off, even… even if it cost her own life to do so. No one else could do it. Her partner's words from earlier that evening echoed in her head. _"The Pyrrha Nikos I know would never back down from a challenge. And if you really believe it's your destiny to save the world, you can't let anything stand in your way."_ Her destiny…

"Pyrrha, I won't let you do—"

Pyrrha acted without thinking. Pulling Jaune hard against her chest, she pressed her lips firmly into his. He fell silent, his whole body stiffening under her touch, before he slowly—almost hesitantly—wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace. Pyrrha allowed herself to deepen the kiss and melt into the moment, knowing it would probably be the last she spent with him. It wasn't anything like she'd long dreamed it would be. There was no passion in it, no delight. Instead, this kiss was filled only with bitterness and regret, sadness and resignation. Despite this, she didn't want to let go, yet she knew it couldn't last forever.

Stepping back, she placed one hand on his chest and looked into his eyes, glazed-over and confused. "I'm sorry." With her Semblance, she pushed him away.

He landed in a nearby locker, the door slamming shut from the impact. "Hey, wait! Stop, stop!" Approaching the locker, Pyrrha input a code into the keypad. With luck, he'd be safe. It was all she could do. Through the slits in the door, she could see him, looking desperately out at her. "Pyrrha, please! Don't do this!" She met his gaze, doing her best not to convey her emotions. She considered saying something, knowing that whatever it would be would be her last words to him, but she stayed silent as the rocket ignited and carried him out toward Vale.

Her gaze lingered on the rapidly departing locker, heart heavy, until her internal voice reminded her, _There's nothing left to hold you back._ Taking a breath to harden her resolve, Pyrrha balled her fists and turned around, heading back into the tower. The sound of her footfalls echoed in the empty space as she ran for the elevator and, with her Semblance, she pulled the damaged doors apart. On the other side, the elevator cab was clearly inoperable, appearing as though the woman had simply punched through it on her way up. Stepping inside, Pyrrha prepared herself to lift the entire thing with her Semblance.

Then, she saw him. A man had walked into the tower behind her, somehow avoiding her notice. He was at least a half-foot taller than her, with long, scraggly black hair, unsettlingly pale skin, and piercing red eyes looking straight through her. In a way, he reminded Pyrrha of the girl from the colosseum, only there was something about him that made her instincts scream at her to pull out her sword. She ignored the feeling, moving cautiously back out of the elevator. By the looks of his armor, he was Atlesian military, so he was probably looking for any civilians still in the tower, though he didn't appear to be armed in any way. "It's too dangerous here," she called out to the man, hoping that he might trust her warning. "You need to leave!"

The man laughed, a harsh, grating sound that sent a chill down Pyrrha's spine. "You are correct," he said, taking a step forward. "This place is dangerous, but I am not the one who needs to leave."

As he continued to walk toward her, the moonlight hit his armor, and Pyrrha was horrified to see that it was stained with blood, blood that was definitely not his. Finally listening to her instinct, she drew her sword and shield from her back and took a defensive stance. "Who are you?"

The man paused his advance to tilt his head back, teeth bared in a snarl. "You arm yourself then ask my identity? Do you believe that understanding who I am will allow you to defeat me?" He laughed again, and Pyrrha tightened her grip on her sword. "I will tell you who I am, and you will see just how wrong you are." His eyes narrowed darkly. "I am called Deirean."

He struck hard, impossibly so. Pyrrha had only barely begun to process his movement when his fist met her shield. She managed to just angle the attack to the side to reduce the impact, but even that was enough to send her stumbling backward. Years of fighting instinct kicked in and she spun backward with the momentum, transforming Miló from sword to javelin as her foot left the ground and threw it at the man. In spite of the weapon's speed, however, he avoided it with apparent ease, sidestepping the flying blade with greater agility than anyone she had ever fought naturally possessed. Her shield followed after her javelin but, even with her Semblance guiding it, it was smacked aside as if it were nothing more than a paper plane. Her foot had just touched back down on the floor when the man grabbed her still-outstretched arm and threw her behind him. Though she was able to adjust her positioning mid-air to lessen the impact, the girl could do nothing to stop herself from colliding with the pillar in the center of the room.

Deirean taunted her as she rolled to the ground. "I hunted your kind when 'humans' and 'faunus' were one and the same." Pyrrha didn't allow herself to be distracted by the absurdity of his statement, instead focusing her attention on retrieving her weapons. The man paused on seeing her pull Miló and Akoúo̱ back to herself with her Semblance, but just as quickly snarled when she charged forward. "I have torn _countless_ warriors limb from limb and marked myself with their blood!"

Pyrrha came in sword-arm first, staying low to slice at the man's abdomen. When she had passed, she straightened and reversed, aiming higher on his body, but neither strike found their marks; Deirean had simply stepped away to avoid them. The space he'd put between them might not have been much, but it had been enough. _I need to keep him on the defensive._ Pyrrha pressed her attack, putting her all into landing even a single blow. When she finally did, it wasn't in the way she was expecting.

A cold pit manifested itself in Pyrrha's stomach as the man gripped the blade of her sword. Dark blood flowed down the gold and crimson metal from his hand, and it didn't seem as though he cared at all. She tried to pull away, but his grip was too powerful and Miló only cut deeper. With a roar, he ripped the sword away from her, like a parent taking a toy away from a badly behaved child. The girl backed away, watching in horror as Deirean removed the blade from his flesh before grasping the hilt with the same, bloody hand.

Pyrrha ducked behind her shield as the man swung at her with her own sword. For a moment, she thought she felt his blood spatter against her skin, but she saw nothing except a thin black mist. Slipping out from under the blade, Pyrrha threw Akoúo̱ at the wall. As it had hundreds of times in the past, the shield ricocheted perfectly toward her opponent and even though he managed to block the attack with his arm, it still gave her the opportunity to get within his guard. Crouching down, she flipped backward, legs extending to kick the man in the chin.

Her foot connected, but not how she wanted. The room twisted as a powerful hand took hold of her ankle and spun her through the air. Once again, Pyrrha slammed into the wall, only this time she didn't have time to prepare for the impact. She collapsed to the ground, struggling to catch her breath, head swimming. Her Aura was holding, but even the few hits the man had landed on her were rapidly draining it.

"I was Hunter Commander of Serpent's Chasm and the Blood-Stained Hills before the fools who commanded our warriors stripped me of my position!" the man roared, his boot coming up to kick her in the ribs. Pyrrha moved her arm to intercept it, but all she accomplished was being kicked in the arm as well. "I stood _strong_ when they ordered the use of the _pech ter'al_ on your kind!" The girl gasped as she rolled to a stop, knocked through the air by the blow. She tried to climb to her feet, but Deirean just kicked her over onto her back. Standing over her, he thrust Miló down toward her chest.

 _Not like this!_ In desperation, Pyrrha called upon her Semblance as she raised her arms to catch the sword. The point of the blade came to a stop inches away from her chest, but it took all her strength just to hold it there. With a strained cry, she pushed Miló away, down over her abdomen, where it scratched against her armor.

The man leaned in and snarled. "I have lived for tens of thousands of years, and I am the last of the Old Rephaim." He pressed harder, and the blade pierced through her Aura.

Pyrrha didn't hear her own scream as white hot pain flooded her senses. All the air in the room seemed to vanish, leaving her struggling to breathe. The fire inside her retreated back to her abdomen, and she felt the burning tears streaming down her face… And her legs… She couldn't…. She couldn't…!

Through it all, she was vaguely aware of the man—no, the _monster_ —kneeling down beside her. "You are afraid for your life," he said, almost gently. His expression quickly returned to a snarl. "You cannot even _begin_ to understand that fear until you have seen your people _slaughtered_ by their own children just to be finished off by _pests_ as I have." He stood, and as darkness swallowed Pyrrha, she heard his final words to her.

" _That_ is who I am."

(- -)

Blake lifted Gambol Shroud, desperately trying to defend herself, only to have it knocked aside by a crimson blade. She felt like a child being pushed around, lashing out uselessly in a pitiful attempt to fight back. Her aggressor would feel no pity for her, however. That she knew from first-hand experience.

This… All of this… It was no metaphor to say it was a nightmare scenario for her. Adam, her former mentor and partner, was leading the White Fang in an all-out attack. Even before she left them, her worst dreams had taken her to this moment, standing amidst burning ruins and all hope of redemption for the former faunus rights group swept away. The worst part was that she knew she should have seen it coming. With everything that they'd done in the past few months—the stockpiling of Dust, the rapidly growing militancy, the increasingly brazen attacks—it only made sense that they would be willing to strike during the Vytal Festival, even with the increased security.

Blake gasped as she landed amidst the shattered glass and broken wood covering the cafeteria floor, the feeling of Adam's shoe fresh against her midriff. She scrambled to her feet, raising her weapon once again as his sword came down upon her. Their blades ground together, and Blake found herself being pushed back by the stronger man. "How could you do this, Blake?" he asked accusingly. "How could you abandon the White Fang? How could you abandon _me_?" He jerked his arm forward, and the hilt of his sword struck Blake in the temple, knocking her down. "This could've been our day!" her former partner and mentor yelled over the crackling of fire and roars of Grimm. "Can't you see that?!"

"I never wanted _this_!" Blake shouted back. She tried to push herself up to her feet, but all she managed was a kneeling position. "I wanted equality! I wanted _peace_!" Transforming Gambol Shroud into its pistol form, she fired up at Adam. It was an act of desperation, nullified as he blocker her bullets with his sword.

The blade glowed red, matching the man's hair and clothes, as he absorbed the attack with his Semblance. "What you want is impossible!" He slammed his sword back into its sheath as though to accentuate his point. A moment later, pain exploded against Blake's face as he struck her with the back of his hand. Once again, she was knocked to the floor, bright spots dancing across her vision. She struggled to pick herself up. Despite the ringing in her ears, she could hear Adam stalking toward her, glass crunching beneath his feet. "But I understand, because all I want is _you_ , Blake."

The girl scowled in disgust. Once upon a time, she might've been flattered by his words—maybe even blushed—but not now. Not after what he'd become. She began to lift her weapon again, but the monster simply kicked it out of her hand, leaving her feeling weak and exposed as she was knocked over onto her back. She crawled away on her elbows, only to find herself backed against an overturned table.

The man looked down on her with hatred, visible even through his mask. With a sneer on his lips, he crouched down beside her. "And as I set out upon this world and deliver the justice mankind so greatly deserves…" Blake cried out in pain as he reached out and ripped the bow from her head to expose her ears. Crumpling it in his hand, he cast the ribbon aside and stood up. "… I will make it my mission to destroy everything you love."

His speech was interrupted by a familiar voice calling Blake's name outside the window. "Bla-ake!" At the sound, she turned her head toward the source of the voice, as did Adam. Her heart sank. "Blake! Where are you?!" Beyond the broken glass was Yang, fighting off White Fang grunts as she looked around in desperation.

Blake's breath hitched as she was overcome with terror. She extended her hand in a silent attempt to warn her partner away. _No, Yang! Get away!_

Above the raven-haired girl, Adam had noticed her reaction. His face twisted into a scowl. "Starting with her." His hand came down to rest on his sword, but the sound of rapidly approaching feet gave him pause. As they neared him, however, he spun around, crimson blade flashing out faster than Blake's eye could track. In the midst of it, she heard the sound of metal cutting through flesh.

Blake scrambled away but, despite herself, found herself looking back. _It wasn't Yang. It_ _ **can't**_ _have been Yang!_ Instead, when she looked up, she saw Aspen. The girl had stumbled forward before Adam, dropping a sword—one of _Penny's_ swords—as she fell to her knees. There was a confused look on her face as one hand clutched instinctively at her neck. Blood was pouring out between her fingers. Blake gasped in horror.

Adam flicked his blade to the side, drops of blood flying from the tip. He looked back over his shoulder at Blake. "Is this the type of person you surround yourself with now, Blake? _Pathetic_ humans like her?" Blake tried to say something, anything, to stop him from killing the girl, but no words came to her mouth. Drawing his sword back, Adam plunged it straight through Aspen's chest.

" _ **No!**_ "

Blake was only vaguely aware that it had been her who had screamed as she slumped forward onto her hands. The other girl's body rocked back as the blade passed through, eyes wide, then she slumped forward. Her hand fell away from her bloody throat. She… She was dead.

Outside, Blake's cry had caught Yang's attention. " _ **Get away from them!**_ " Her Semblance exploded, burning the air around her, and she leapt forward through a broken window with a scream. Blake didn't have time to warn her about Adam, and he seemed to know it. Smirking cruelly, he began to pull his sword from the dead girl's body.

Then the dead girl grabbed his arm.

(- -)

Aspen found herself somewhere she didn't recognize. Not because she'd never been there before, but because there was no place to it. All of it was blackness, and the blackness surrounded her. What had happened? She was cold. She remembered pain. Something… Some _one_ had stabbed her. Someone had _killed_ her.

Images and sensations—memories—seemed to appear amidst the darkness. Searching with Yang, her aura plagued by worry and suspicion. Another, far more powerful aura, filled with hatred she couldn't ignore. A man with a sword of blood and the mask of the White Fang. _He_ had killed her.

The memories faded and ahead of her, through the nothingness, Aspen saw an even blacker darkness. It held no corporeal form, and yet she felt she could reach out and touch it. It existed, but was altogether nonexistent as well. Surrounding it and her, she saw hundreds of figures. A few her mind told her she recognized, but most she did not. They all bowed down to this void of darkness, worshipping it as a deity. She could imagine herself among them, serving the cold death. She stepped toward it.

An image of a woman came to Aspen's mind, dull blue eyes looking up at her. Her chest constricted painfully at the sight, and her throat burned. This dark emptiness… This wasn't what she wanted. She wanted the light. Where was the light? There was always light when she was killed. It burned her to be in its presence, but she felt alive because of it. She would rather feel that pain than feel nothing at all.

She looked around, but saw nothing but black. If anything, the darkness before her seemed to have grown larger, rising up to tower over her. It called out to her, speaking nothing and offering everything. She reached out her hand, pausing just at the surface of the roiling dark. She didn't want it, but... perhaps this once...

* * *

" _ **There's a point where it tips, / there's a point where it breaks, / there's a point where it bends, / and a point we just can't take / anymore.**_ **"**

 **I'm going to try and keep this brief, since both scenes will carry over into the next chapter, and while this was a relatively short chapter, there's a lot to unpackage. Before I get into it, though, I know that I'm breaking the ordering of the scenes from what they were in the show and messing up the timeline (Pyrrha didn't go to fight Cinder until after Yang lost her arm) but, dramatically speaking, writing them as two simultaneous events will make it a lot better. Trust me on this.**

 **One criticism of Volume 3 that's always bugged me is that Pyrrha's decision to fight Cinder made no sense. I think it actually makes a lot of sense, and part of the reason I wrote that first scene was to give a perspective on it that I hadn't really seen before. It's a little late, sure, but I stand by it. The other important part of that scene was, of course, the insight Deirean gave on the Rephaim, specifically that they are an** _ **extremely**_ **long-lived species. It makes sense, given that the Grimm are implied to be nigh-immortal, but it does raise some questions.**

 **On the second scene, I actually wrote two versions of Blake's encounter with Adam. The first time, I basically did what I had done with the Yang/Mercury fight and take the scene as it happened in the show and put it into words. The problem with that is the way that scene is presented on screen doesn't work well at all on page. It was short, dull, and honestly kind of ridiculous when explained in detail, especially with how submissive Blake acts. Like, seriously: Blake is visually disgusted when Adam says he wants her, but then she just lays there with her arms spread after he kicks her weapon away? What gives? A rule I've been following while I write this fic is that, if one of my characters didn't have an effect on the scene, don't change it. In this case, I said, "Screw it," and wrote a better version.**

 **And the last bit? I think that verse from Volume 2 opening theme sums it up pretty well. Aspen's had a** _ **long**_ **night.**

 **That's it for this chapter. Again, I'll have more to say next chapter, but I hope you've enjoyed (I'm sorry about Pyrrha!). Au revoir!**


	23. Chapter 23

"Blake? Bla-ake? Blake?!"

Yang Xiao Long was finding herself increasingly desperate and frustrated as she continued searching for her partner. Where the hell _was_ she? Blake had been out on her own for who knew how long, and every minute that passed made it that much more likely that something bad would happen to her. Yang knew that Blake could take care of herself, of course, but with all the Grimm and White Fang running around, she hated to think what might happen if she and Aspen didn't find her in time. Hopefully, splitting up would prove to be a wise decision.

If the number of faunus terrorists in the area was any indication, though, she seemed to be on the right track. A grunt turned to face her, pistol in hand. _I do_ _ **not**_ _have time for this!_ Charging forward, Yang put the man down with a single, Ember-Celica-backed punch. Despite all of the White Fang she'd encountered so far being nothing more than common mooks, she kept remembering what Aspen had said about there being much more dangerous members out here somewhere. She may not have trusted the strange girl all that much, but something inside Yang told her that it would be foolish not to trust her on this.

"Bla-ake?!" Yang was outside the cafeteria now. At this point, there weren't many places left to look, and the worry was starting to get to her. Another White Fang goon ran toward her with a sword, but a quick punch to the face took care of him. "Blake! Where are you?!" She stopped to take a better look around, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of her partner. There were so many shadows, though, that spotting much of anything was proving to be—

" _ **No!**_ "

Yang whirled around, focusing in on the cry of terror. _Blake!_ As she looked through the broken window, she saw her partner, cowering amidst the rubble on the floor. In front of her was a man, one she recognized from a sketch in Blake's journal, and in front of him was Aspen, his sword through her chest. _No…!_

Rage filled Yang's mind, kickstarting her Semblance. " _ **Get away from them!**_ " With a scream, she launched herself through the window toward the man who had no doubt threatened Blake and had now killed Aspen. She no longer cared about anything other than making this monster pay for what he had done: not for her own safety, and certainly not for the reason he wasn't pulling his sword from the dead girl's corpse. Flames erupted around Yang's fist as she struck the man. He'd brought his sheath up to take some of the impact, but it wasn't enough to stop him from being sent hurtling through the other side of the building.

"Yang!"

Reigning in her anger, the blonde rushed over to her partner. "Blake! Are you alright?" she asked, kneeling down to look her over. She was a little roughed up, but no worse for wear.

She was clearly still shaken by the whole ordeal though, clutching tightly at Yang's arms as she helped her up. "I'm fine, Yang." There was panic in her voice, and she was looking past her partner. "Aspen…"

Yang shook her head, forcing herself to stay strong for the both of them. "I know. I wish I could have done something to help her, but it's too late. We need to—"

"No, Yang!" Blake gripped her arms tighter, forcing her to turn around. "She's not…" Her voice trailed off again, eyes wide with fear. Yang followed her gaze.

Rather than the corpse she expected, she saw Aspen slumped forward, clearly supporting herself on her hands and knees. "What the hell…?" Spitting blood, Aspen lifted one hand to the hilt of the blood-red sword still protruding from the center of her chest. With an almost deliberate, agonizing slowness, she extracted the blade from her chest. The sight alone was enough to make Yang feel queasy, but the _sound_ … It took all her strength to suppress the urge to vomit as the sword finally came out with a wet _schlick_.

 _Was this what Ruby had to go through?_ Yang wondered as she watched Aspen cough up a massive gob of blood. Slowly, unsteadily, the black-haired girl rose to her feet, crimson sword still in hand. She was practically covered in her own blood from the neck down, though her wound seemed to have sealed with dark, fibrous scabs. Eyes screwed shut in what must have been agonizing pain, she opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn't form any coherent words.

Blake gripped Yang's arm tightly. "We need to go before Adam comes back," she said, her voice a terrified whisper.

The blonde nodded in agreement. She reached out to grab the other girl's arm. "Come on, Aspen. We have to—"

It was through instinct alone that Yang avoided the crimson blade as Aspen swung it at her. She pulled back into a defensive stance, but the immediate threat vanished in an instant as Aspen crumpled back to the ground. She had curled up into a ball, every muscle in her body tense as she opened her mouth to scream, though the sound that actually came out of her throat defied any attempt to label it as a natural sound. Yang and Blake looked down at the fallen girl with a mix of uncertainty and fear. They couldn't leave her there in her current state, alone with this Adam person, but it didn't seem as though they were going to be able to take her with them either. There was a crack of glass on the far side of the cafeteria, and the two girls still standing looked up to see Adam climbing back through the window. They needed to leave _now_.

Ultimately, Aspen made their decision for them. " _Go,_ " she said, voice barely a whisper. It was strained and coarse, but it was evidently the only way she could speak after having her throat cut. Yang opened her mouth to protest, but fell short as the girl convulsed once again with another barely restrained scream. Her head jerked up to look at them, teeth bared and eyes wide. Like they had been at the colosseum, her pupils were dilated to an unnatural size. " _Now!_ "

Yang needed no more convincing, grabbing tightly onto Blake and running out of the cafeteria, away from Aspen. Her mind was racing as fast as her heart as she suddenly realized what the girl had been trying to say when they'd left the others to search: she was losing control like she had before, and gods help anyone who got too close to her.

(- -)

In all of Deirean's years, he had never encountered a structure quite as tall as the tower these havneel had constructed for themselves. The havashae chambers came close in terms of overall scale, but they, like most rephaite architecture, were wider than they were tall. This tower, however, was higher than any cliff Deirean had scaled before. To account for this, the havneel seemed to have created what appeared to be a pulley system that allowed them to lift a small room up and down the tower, but the system had been damaged to the point of inoperability. His target was far above him, however, and with no other apparent means of ascent, he had taken to scaling the cabling and support structures within the shaft.

With every level that he passed, Deirean felt Decay's signature grow stronger and stronger. His earlier fury returned, and he channeled it into climbing faster. These havneel—these _humans_ —were truly different than those of his time. Their signatures were stronger, even among the weakest, and they possessed unfamiliar magics that allowed them to summon fire and manipulate objects without touching them. Had this been the case in the times of the rephaim, the pech ter'al would never have been released. There wouldn't have been a chance. It was no matter; one way or another, he would set things straight.

Finally, as the fibers in his gloves were beginning to fray, Deirean reached the top level. The doors on this floor had been blasted inward, scorch marks on the warped and twisted metal and the stench of burnt air still lingering. Beyond them was a large, circular room that evidently took up the entirety of the tower's diameter. The walls on the far side were made of glass such that one could look out at the land below and framed in the center stood Decay, standing behind a large metal and glass desk, manipulating some sort of interface.

Deirean pulled himself out of the shaft, drawing Decay's attention in the process. She regarded him with a confident look, reflected in her signature, but it did nothing to hide the brief spike of fear she felt on seeing him. Trailing her fingers along the surface of the desk, she stepped away from the interface. "I must admit, I was expecting the girl." Her eyes flicked over his armor and the blood staining it. "Though it seems as though you've taken care of her yourself."

With a growl, Deirean walked into the room. "If you wish to speak, you would do best to spare me the effort and kill yourself now."

The woman laughed, a horrid chiming sound that cut through the air. "Do you still believe you can kill me?" she asked, lifting her hand away from the desk. Flames lit her eyes, and a ball of fire appeared in the air above her fingers. "I am far more powerful than the last time we met."

Eyeing the fire with disinterest, Deirean snarled. "Then _prove_ it!"

Decay threw the flames as he sprinted toward her, but he easily twisted out of their path. As the heat washed over his back, he swung around, bringing the back of his arm into the woman's body. With a fiery flash, she caught the blow against the palms of her hands before grabbing hold and attempting to throw him over her shoulder. He easily broke her grip, however, and slashed out at her neck. Even with the gloves on, he had no doubt he could have clawed her throat out had she not backed out of his reach. There was a smug look in her eye as she raised one hand up, palm toward him, and Deirean caught a glimpse of a spark in the air before the space between his face and her hand exploded.

The force of the detonation and his own unpreparedness was enough to knock Deirean across the room. He was able to right himself before coming to a stop, though the searing pain across his face and neck and smell of burnt flesh told him he had not emerged unscathed. Opening one eye—the other having been either melted shut or burned out entirely—he witnessed Decay rise up into the air, hand outstretched once more. With a growl, he charged forward once more.

The glass window behind Deirean shattered as a stream of flame from the woman's hand struck the floor just in front of it. Dragging her other hand before her, Decay conjured a wide arc of fire in the air that she sent roaring toward him. He leapt over it, unflinching as she raised her arm again. With one hand, he grabbed her by the wrist and wrenched the limb aside while he wrapped the other around her throat and dragged her out of the air.

Deirean hissed as they landed on the desk, the thick glass shattering under the impact and digging into his side. Twisting out of his grip, Decay rolled off the desk and backed away. She waved her hands through the air again as he came to his own feet, summoning a ring of fireballs in the air behind her. With a grunt, the man gripped he edge of the desk and tipped it onto its side just as Decay thrust her arms forward. Twin streams of flame struck the overturned surface, warping the metal and cracking the glass. Despite the cover, the heat in the air was so intense that Deirean could feel what remained of the hair on his face beginning to burn. It was nothing compared to the shame of cowering behind a piece of furniture, however.

As soon the flames subsided, he took hold of the desk. He was still far from his full strength but, even with the superheated metal burning through his gloves, lifting the desk above his head was a simple task. The action took Decay by surprise, however, her signature shifting from confidence to shock as she gaped dumbly at him. With a heave, he threw the desk directly at her. She vanished behind it as it travelled across the room, only coming to a stop when it struck the far wall. Everything was still for a moment but, through the remains of the desk, Deirean made out an orange glow, rapidly growing in intensity.

He dropped to the floor an instant before the built-up energy exploded outward in a fiery storm and sent the desk crashing through the glass ceiling and into the wall behind him. In the same moment, every window in the room exploded outward, allowing the cold wind to whip through the room. As shards of glass rained down atop them, Decay once again rose into the air, eyes ablaze. Her signature was stronger than before, and yet was faltering with continued use of her powers. She could—she _would_ —be broken, and Deirean knew the way to do it.

Taking hold of a large piece of glass beside him, he flung it at the woman. Predictably, she swatted it aside with her flames. It served its purpose as a distraction for Deirean to close the distance between them, however, with a smaller, more jagged piece of glass clutched in his hand. Decay raised a hand toward him, a ball of fire lancing out from in front of it, but he ignored the flame even as it splashed across his chest. She could burn him all she liked; she would not leave this tower alive.

The woman screamed in pain as the glass pierced her side, beneath her ribs. She may have been protected by her magic, but even the sturdiest of rocks yielded under sufficient force. Screeching in fury and pain, Decay dug her fingers into his chest and ignited the air between them. The resulting detonation wasn't as powerful as the last, however, and didn't send him nearly as far back. In fact, it barely gave her the time to remove the glass from her side before he closed on her again.

Gone from Decay's signature was her former confidence, replaced by fear and anger as Deirean threw her down onto the glass-covered floor. Impressively, she was able to recover as she slid along it, hand drawing a molten furrow to mark her path. Rising to her feet, she lifted her hand and thrust it toward him. Rather than conjure flames in the air, the action caused the superheated debris she had touched to rise from the floor and shoot toward him. She cast them in a wide pattern, ensuring he would be caught no matter which direction he moved. Recognizing this, Deirean didn't even try to avoid the attack, instead turning to the side and allowing the debris to strike him. Several of the larger pieces pierced his arm and leg, but the rest left only superficial scratches as they passed.

The attack seemed to have drained the woman as she offered little resistance to his approach. Still with one side to her, he lifted one leg to deliver a roundhouse kick into the wound on her side. She recovered enough to catch it with her arm, though doing so only aggravated the injury and yielded the same result. Decay's knees buckled, but she managed to stay on her feet, even lifting her hand to summon another ball of fire.

Grabbing her wrist, Deirean pulled one of the shards of debris from his arm and stabbed it into the palm of her hand. She screamed as the fire died and he released her, clutching at her bloody hand. Scowling at the pitiful sight, Deirean struck her with the back of his hand, a blow that knocked her to the edge of the tower. He stalked over to the woman's weak and broken form and lifted her up by the neck. Her signature was nothing but fear now, a deep and piercing feeling that struck deep within Deirean's core. A predatory growl escaped his throat.

Evidently, Decay had removed the debris from her palm, as when she raised her hands to weakly grab at his arm, she succeeded only in smearing her own blood on his armor. "P-Please…" she choked out, struggling for air. "… mercy…"

"Mercy?" Deirean snarled as he brought her face close to his. "You would beg for mercy?" He tightened his grip on her neck. "This is your end. _Embrace it._ " There was a flash of desperation in the woman's eyes and she pulled her good hand from his arm to point at his head. Deirean swiftly wrenched it aside and, with a twist of his other hand, he snapped her neck

The rephaite's eyes fell shut as the ecstasy of the kill settled over him. It had been long—oh, so long—since he had truly taken a life. The pech ter'al he had been forced to kill had given him no pleasure, and the men he had killed to acquire his armor had been weak. This woman had been powerful, however, moreso than any havneel he had killed in his long, long life. His koravah was sated.

When he opened his eyes, Deirean was met with a curious sight. A fiery cloud of yellow light hung in the air before him, as though it had come loose from the woman's body. Impossibly, he felt a signature coming from it, unlike any he had felt before. It hovered there for a moment, as if in thought, then rushed away from him before vanishing in the night. Derean narrowed his eyes. _More sorcery._ Briefly drawing the lifeless corpse toward him, he flung it out into the darkness, off the tower.

Decay was dead, and that was the end of it.

(- -)

Laurel had seen her fair share of evacuations in her time as a huntress. There were the good ones, where everyone managed to get out alive. On that rare occasion where there was sufficient warning and everything went perfectly, maybe they even did it without any injuries. There were also not-so-good ones. Grimm broke through defensive lines, prioritizing civilians lives became… tricky, and even some hunters didn't make it back.

Then there were the extremely-very-bad-and-definitely-not-good evacuations that were doomed before they even began. Maybe the Grimm appeared out of nowhere and wiped out half the population before any hunters even got there. Maybe there wasn't enough equipment to get everyone out or enough manpower to protect them and impossible decisions had to be made. Maybe some huntsman had a really bad day and decided that the people of the village he was in weren't worth it. Whatever happened, those types of evacuations descended into chaos, and not nearly enough people made it out alive.

If she had to place it, Laurel would probably say the Beacon evacuation fell somewhere between not-so-good and extremely-very-bad-and-definitely-not-good. The attack had started in the middle of the tournament finals, so there weren't many people on the ground to begin with and casualties were therefore relatively low. It also helped that there was a literal army providing security for the event, but when three-quarters of that army suddenly turned hostile, things had nearly broken down entirely. They were lucky that whatever general was in charge had managed to pull things together enough so, at the very least, they didn't have to worry about the rogue mechs anymore. Not that it really made a difference at that point.

The Atlesian forces on the ground had set up an evacuation point at the Beacon docks and, despite how long it had been since the nightmare had started, it was still pretty crowded. Students, military, and civilians alike had grouped together, though there were mercifully few in the last group. Those who could still fight stood watch for any threats, while those who couldn't waited for the next airship or helped out where possible.

Oliver's arm slipped from Laurel's shoulders as she passed him off to a medic, only for the hunter to protest. "I'll be fine," he said, attempting to mask the pain in his voice. "Focus on the kids and the civilians who need it."

Laurel glared at him, then turned to the medic. "He took a hard fall. Bruised ribs on the right side, at the least, and definitely a sprained knee. His shoulder was dislocated, but we were able to reset that."

The medic shook his head in wonder as he eased Oliver to the ground. "What'd you fall off of to manage that?" he asked.

No longer trying to put on a brave face, the hunter grimaced as he laid down. "Goliath."

"Well, hero," the medic said with a chuckle, "the next shuttle should be here soon. We'll see what we can do about getting you on it."

Trusting that her partner was in good hands, Laurel turned away to have another look at everyone who had gathered. Around a dozen or so were students, most of whom she assumed had come down from the colosseum to help protect the school. Among them she spotted the team that Aspen had been assigned to standing watch, only Aspen wasn't with them. The all-too familiar sinking feeling of apprehension deep in her stomach returned, and she rushed over to them. "Hey! Aspen! Where is she?"

Carmine, leaning heavily against a lamppost, glanced at her but didn't otherwise react, and Rhys, looking away, didn't react at all. Ilex on the other hand, jumped at the sound of her voice and spun around with a look of alarm. _I was a little aggressive, wasn't I? Well, this is important._ "Where's Aspen?" Laurel repeated, focusing in the on the white-haired teen.

Ilex took a step back, hands lifted defensively as she advanced on him. "I don't know!" he spat out, looking toward his fellow faunus, who had only just noticed Laurel. "We split up a while ago. Rhys said she went to go look for someone." Laurel turned her gaze toward the younger boy, but he just shrugged. "I think he said they were on Ruby's team. She might know where Aspen went."

"Ruby's the little girl with the scythe, right? Do you know where _she_ is?"

Ilex hesitated before looking over the woman's shoulder. "No, but some of her friends are over there. They might know."

Looking to where Ilex had indicated, Laurel saw another group of teens, including a black-haired boy, an orange-haired girl, and a blond boy watching over them. With a sigh of frustration, she made her way over to them. The blond boy, a monkey faunus, noticed her heading their way and moved to meet her. "Hey, are you trying to find someone?" he asked, clearly tired but still trying to be helpful.

"Ruby… I don't remember her last name. Do you know where I can find her?"

The orange-haired girl sat up with some difficulty. "She and Weiss went back out to find the rest of our team," she explained, gesturing to the black-haired boy beside.

Laurel cursed under her breath, causing the blond to turn back to her. "Why are you looking for Ruby?"

The woman shook her head. "Not her, another girl. Black hair, red eyes, goes by Aspen. I was told she went out looking for someone on Ruby's team."

"Blake," the black-haired teen said, wincing as he grabbed his ribs. "Aspen and Yang, Blake's partner, went out looking for her about a half hour ago."

"Great," Laurel muttered, cursing again. "I don't suppose you've heard anything from them since?"

The black-haired boy shook his head and the blond faunus opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he had to say was interrupted as the orange-haired girl pointed out toward the school. "There!"

Looking up, Laurel saw a pair of girls staggering toward the evacuation area, one with yellow hair and the other with black. For a moment, the huntress hoped it was Aspen, but it was immediately apparent, on further inspection, that it wasn't her. "Blake!" the blond boy called out before running toward the pair. Laurel followed after him, feeling increasingly agitated. She was beginning to feel like she was being jerked around so, for their sake, she hoped the girls could tell her _exactly_ where Aspen was.

The boy reached them first and immediately began to worry over Blake, but the black-haired girl gently brushed him off. "I'm fine, Sun. Please, just…" Her protests trailed off as she gripped his arm and took a shaky breath.

"It's alright, Blake," Yang said, hugging her partner with the arm she was using to support her. "Everything's going to be alright."

The three teens began to walk back to the evac area, but Laurel placed a hand on the blonde's shoulder to stop her. The other two stopped with her, but she just nodded for them to go along without her. "Aspen. Where is she?" Laurel asked once she had the girl's attention.

Yang hesitated, biting her lip. "The cafeteria." Laurel immediately turned to go find the building, but the girl grabbed her arm. "She… She stayed behind to cover us. There was a guy there, with the White Fang. He… killed her, but she just got up again. I think she was losing control of herself."

Laurel frowned. "Thanks for the warning," she said, reaching around her back to pull Timekeeper out.

The blonde let go of her and took a step back in apparent horror. "That's not what I…" She shook her head. "Look, I just don't know what you're going to find when you get there, is all."

Pursing her lips, Laurel nodded and sprinted back out into Beacon. _Aspen, losing control…_ This was exactly the type of scenario she'd been trying to warn Oliver about since they'd found her.

Sometimes, she really hated being right.

(- -)

 _Monsters._

That was how humans saw the White Fang, a threat to the power they'd held over the faunus for so long. So deeply ingrained was this fear that even some faunus believed that they were monsters. They were cowards who had contented themselves with subservience. The White Fang would show them the true path, but they were not the monsters.

No, this girl was the _true_ monster.

Adam backed away from her, avoiding the wild slashes of her blades. She should have been dead twice over, if not from having her throat cut, then from being stabbed through the heart. Instead of dying, however, she had removed his sword from her own chest and attacked him with it. If devils were real, she was one of them. She was a fury, eyes black and hair wild as she lashed out at him in a lethal storm of metal. Adam knew he held no equal when it came to swordsmanship but, despite her complete lack of form, it was all he could do to keep up with this girl's relentless attack.

It wasn't often that Adam fought with his rifle alone but, until he could retrieve Wilt from the girl, he had no choice but to rely on Blush to hold her off. It disgusted him to see his weapon in the hands of a human, especially used so recklessly. She swung it blindly, alternating her attacks with her own sword. From the look of that other sword, however—a silver and dark gray blade with green and gold accents—he suspected she had stolen it as well.

Rolling over a table, Adam kicked it toward the girl, only for it to fall to pieces as she cut through the wood with ease. Metal flashed in front of her as he fired several shots at her with Blush, her swords blocking all but one of his bullets. The one that she missed cut a bloody mark along the surface of her cheek. The small wound seemed to only enrage her further and, with a muted roar, she threw herself at him once again.

With a smirk, the White Fang leader twisted to the side at the last moment, Blush aimed downward. For however powerful and unkillable this girl may have seemed, her Aura didn't protect her. She relied on the swords to do that, but if she was using them to attack, she couldn't use them for defense.

Adam's bullet found its mark, boring through the girl's leg with ease. Despite suffering what should have been a debilitating injury, her only reaction was to drop to one knee before quickly rising again to snarl at him. As much as he would have relished hearing it, she didn't even cry out in pain. _Adrenaline blocking out any feeling,_ the man reasoned, tightening his focus. _This will be_ _ **fun**_ _._

The girl snapped forward when Adam lifted Blush again, barely hindered by the hole in her leg. Her first slash caught empty air, and the second was intercepted by Blush. Firing over his shoulder, Adam pressed the opening and struck the girl in the chest with the butt of his rifle, staggering her despite her failure to register any pain. He continued to exploit the gaps he was creating in her defense, dashing erratically around her in a wide circle and raining fire down upon her.

He had successfully turned the tables on the girl, forcing her to remain in place and protect herself rather than launch a counter attack. She did well tracking him considering his speed, blocking shot after shot, but she couldn't stop all of them. Splits and holes appeared in her clothes where she failed to stop his bullets and, over the course of a minute, Adam gradually wore her down. He stopped behind her and she turned to face him, too slow.

The double _crack_ of Blush firing was swallowed by the ruined building as crimson and silver blades cut through the air in a vain attempt to intercept the projectile. Adam's bullets struck true, however, puncturing the girl's abdomen with bursts of red against the white of her shirt. Dual sword tips bit into the ground as she collapsed forward, drops of blood dripping from her mouth.

With a satisfied smirk, Adam closed the distance between them and delivered a swift kick that knocked her away. Wilt's crimson blade flicked through the air as he retrieved it before it could fall away with the other sword, and a cursory examination revealed that its surface had been marred by numerous nicks and dings from where it had intercepted bullets. As incensed as it made him to see it in such a condition, there was also something about it that seemed wrong. It took only one look at the fallen girl to realize what it was. There was no blood… not on Wilt… and not on her chest. It pooled around her hand where she clutched her freshest wounds, but there was no trace that he had stabbed her aside from the hole in her shirt. _How is this possible?_ Blood didn't just vanish without a trace. The only things that did that were—

Adam took a step back as the girl rolled over and rose to her feet. "What the hell are you?" he whispered, tightening his grip on Wilt. The girl didn't respond, instead grimacing as she clutched at her stomach. Wilt slid into its sheath as Adam prepared to attack. Humankind and their Academies were a blight on Remnant and they deserved every curse that came their way, but this… this _thing_ … He could not allow it to live. Coiling his legs, he snapped forward with the intent to decapitate the monster before him.

The clash of metal rang out through the air as Adam passed her. Resheathing Wilt, he turned around with a scowl as the girl fell back to the ground. Somehow, despite already being off-balance, she had managed to block his attack. _Pointless._ She was just delaying the inevitable. Stepping over to her, Adam spared her one last look before drawing his weapon in a flash. Once again, however, the blade was stopped before it could draw blood. In the fraction of a second it had taken for him to attack, the girl had risen to one knee from being on all fours. She still was still holding her abdomen, meaning she had stopped Wilt in its tracks with a single hand.

With a gravelly, bloody-toothed snarl, the girl rose to her feet, bring her sword up with her. She moved just as quickly as she had before he'd shot her—if not more so—and yet her hand never left her wound. Her ferocity hadn't faded in the slightest, either, and, even with his Semblance, every clash of their blades sent shocks up Adam's arms that left them feeling numb. The girl would give him no quarter, and neither would he give her any. For every cut and thrust he struck her with, however, she returned with a powerful slash or kick of her own. His Aura protected him from any damage, but it wouldn't last forever.

Adam leapt back, sheathing Wilt back at his side. As the girl followed after him, he drew it again, only for her to dip below the blade. He'd expected the maneuver, however, and angled Blush to fire at her chest. Her sword flashed across to intercept the bullet, leaving her unable to stop his foot from connecting with a deep cut on her shoulder. While she had ignored every injury up to that point, it seemed her resistance to pain was flagging. With a hiss of pain, she staggered to the side, giving Adam the opportunity to move behind her and slice through her hamstring.

The girl momentarily lost her balance as her leg gave way, but she recovered quickly enough to twist around and stop him from delivering another, more fatal blow. She stood again and made to advance on him, but not even she could ignore a severed muscle. Adam smirked as the girl snarled and still attempted to cut him down with an overhead strike. Partially drawing his blade, he absorbed the energy of the attack with his Semblance before spinning around behind her, tucking Blush underneath her arm in the same movement. With a jerk of the weapon, Adam dislocated the girl's sword arm, and a kick sent her tumbling across the room, sword falling from her grip.

Savoring his hard-fought moment of victory, Adam made his way over to the girl, pausing only to recover her blade and throw it across the room. He may have defeated her, but this wouldn't be over until she was dead, and that was proving to be more of a task than he would have thought. As he approached her, he could see that she was having difficulty pushing herself up to her knees. Her clothes were in tatters and stained with blood, though now he could see the thin black cloud around her as it evaporated.

When she did manage to prop herself up, she finally removed her hand from her stomach, only to lift the other into its place. Then, with only a grimace to indicate her pain, she raised her hand and popped her shoulder back into place. She began to stand, but was knocked down by the back of Adam's hand. He gripped his sword as he looked down at her. "Are you ready to die, monster?" he asked, readying his Semblance. He would make _sure_ she didn't get up again.

The girl's only response was a long hiss that seared through her teeth as she bucked forward. When she rose up to her knees again, Adam was caught off guard to see her eyes had returned to a normal size. The crimson orbs burned up at him, then dropped downward. Against his better judgement, Adam followed her gaze to her hand. She pulled it away from her abdomen, and cradled within her palm were the two bullets he had shot her with. " _Monster…_ " The whispered word caused Adam to look back up at the girl's face in alarm, but she was still looking at her hand. Slowly, she let it turn over, and the two slugs _clinked_ onto the floor.

Adam drew his sword…

… but was stopped before he could fully draw it from its sheath. The girl rose to her feet, tightening her grip on his wrist. A spike of fear shot through him as he tried to pull away but found her hold was too secure for him to break free of. Reaching up to grab him by the hair, the girl wrenched his head down into her knee. Adam instinctively let go of his weapons as his mask shattered and dug into the skin above his eyes. He reeled back in shock. Through the blood obscuring his vision, he saw that the girl had taken Wilt and was spinning around to slash at him, and foolishly raised his arm to defend himself.

He felt the pain first in his elbow, then it vanished and reappeared in the right side of his chest, more intense than anything he'd felt in his life. An agonized cry escaped his throat as he fell back and hit the ground. Blindly, he grasped at the source of the pain, only to find it soaked with blood. _My arm…!_ When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by the stump of his right arm, the rest lying somewhere nearby. The girl stood over him, Wilt still held aloft and a fierce look on her face, fixated on him. Blood dripped slowly from the blade. _His_ blood. Overcome by immense fear, Adam struggled to push himself away from the girl with just his legs, only to see her lower the sword to her side rather than move to finish him off.

The roar of gunfire cut through the near-quiet, the bullets tearing through the space above Adam. The girl staggered forward, her brow seeming to furrow in confusion, before her feet slipped out from underneath her and she fell to the ground. As Adam freed his legs from beneath her body, several White Fang soldiers ran up to him, including his lieutenant. "Sir! You're hurt!" the burly man said, reaching down to help him to his feet.

Adam accepted the assistance, if only because he had no choice. "I'll live," he growled. Looking down at the fallen girl with a scowl, he delivered a swift kick to her ribs. She didn't move. "Sound the retreat," he ordered, stepping over the girl. "All forces are to pull out and rendezvous at the Forever Fall camp. You." He looked at the nearest grunt. "Retrieve my weapon." The man immediately scrambled to pick up the fallen sword and rifle, while the rest stood at attention. "The rest of you, stay here. If she moves," he said, gesturing toward the girl's body, "kill her again." The men shuffled nervously, clearly confused, but they knew better than to question his orders. Clutching the stump of his arm, Adam allowed his lieutenant to lead him out of the ruins of the building. _Damn Cinder Fall, and damn Roman Torchwick!_ If they had survived this hell of a night, he would be sure to—

Any thoughts of revenge on the humans who had put the White Fang in this situation were interrupted by the sound of gunfire behind him. Adam turned his head to see what was happening behind him, but he only caught a glimpse of the ensuing carnage before his lieutenant grabbed hold of him and forced him to run out into the darkness. The White Fang leader let loose a roar—a mix of fury, pain and fear. _The Humans can have their monster!_

 _ **Damn them all!**_

(- -)

"Ruby! Behind you!"

The red-cloaked girl spun around, neatly splitting a Beowolf that had gotten too close. "Got 'em!" Twirling Crescent Rose about, she slammed the point down into the ground and quickly shot another pair of Beowolves that Weiss had frozen into place. The creatures were obliterated by the high-caliber rounds, their remains vanishing into smoke.

As the immediate area fell into silence, the two girls took a moment to regain their composure. Ruby gripped her scythe with worry as she looked around for any sign of Jaune and Pyrrha. She and Weiss were close to Beacon Tower now, which was the last place anyone could remember seeing them. The problem was that it was such a large area to search, and they kept having to stop to fight off Grimm stragglers. It would be a lot easier if they could just call Jaune or Pyrrha and ask where they were.

…

 _Duh!_ "Weiss!"

The white-haired girl turned to look at her but, before Ruby could make her suggestion, her scroll rang. Pulling the device out, Weiss looked at the screen. "It's Jaune!" She didn't hesitate to answer. "Where are you?"

Jaune's voice came through the speaker. -/ _Weiss! Please, you have to stop her!/-_ Ruby felt a pang of fear in her heart; she'd never heard him sound so desperate before.

Weiss looked at her in confusion, as though she might know what he was talking about. "What?"

 _-/Pyrrha! She's going after that woman at the top of the tower! She doesn't stand a chance!/-_

Instinctively looking up at the tower, Ruby was just able to make out flashes of light near the very top. _Pyrrha's… up there?_

"Jaune, what are you talking about?!" Weiss continued. "Where are you?"

The heiress flinched away from her scroll as Jaune shouted, _-/Don't worry about me!/-_ There was a brief pause in his words, and when he spoke again, his voice was quieter and filled with pain and desperation. _-/Please, you have to save Pyrrha./-_

Ruby and Weiss shared a look and the younger girl nodded. "We will," she promised. "Are you okay?" Jaune didn't answer, not with words. They made out an anguished scream through the scroll's speaker before it was cut off by a loud cracking noise. "Jaune? Jaune!" Despite Weiss's efforts, however, there was only silence from the scroll.

Ruby looked up at the tower again just in time to see what looked to be an explosion blow out all of the windows in Ozpin's office. She gasped, grabbing onto Weiss's arm for support. _No, no, no!_ "Weiss!"

"Ruby…"

"We need to get up there!"

Weiss pulled her back and repeated herself, more insistently. "Ruby!" The girl lowered her gaze to her partner, only to see that Weiss wasn't looking at the top of the tower, but the bottom. She raised one hand to point. "Look!"

Ruby followed Weiss's arm and quickly found what she was indicating. Through the open doors of the main entrance, Ruby caught a glimpse of bright red and gold. "Pyrrha!" Forgetting all about the lights at the top of the tower, the girl sprinted toward the entrance, Weiss right behind her.

When she got there, however, she froze, overcome by the scene. Pyrrha… lying in a pool of blood, unmoving… with her own sword sticking up from her stomach. Ruby's chest constricted painfully, and she was only vaguely aware of Weiss rushing past her as she was flooded with memories of Aspen impaled on her scythe. _This can't be happening… Not… not again…_ She hadn't been here. She hadn't been fast enough, and now _another_ person close to her was… was…

"She's still alive!"

Weiss's voice cut through the fog that Ruby had been frozen in. Still… alive? The full weight of the words struck Ruby all at once and jarred her into motion. Rushing over to where Weiss was frantically attending to Pyrrha, she knelt down in hopes that she might be useful. "What do we do?"

"I… I'm not sure," Weiss stammered. "It looks like her Aura's keeping her stable for now, but she's lost a lot of blood and she'll only lose more if we remove the sword." She looked up at Ruby with a pained expression. "I think we're going to have to try to move her."

The younger girl swallowed, pushing through the lump in her throat. "R-Right." _How do we do that with the sword still—_ She shook her head at the worry. They didn't have time to address every little complication. They would just have to make do with whatever they could. Standing, she reached up to her shoulders to undo the pins holding her cloak to her blouse. "We'll make a stretcher. I'll go find something to use for a frame, and then we can use my cloak to—"

She cut off as a loud _thud_ echoed through the room. Scrambling to lift Crescent Rose as Weiss stood up beside her, Ruby turned to face the elevator. For a moment, there was no sign of movement save for the eerie creaking and groaning of metal, but then something dropped through a hole in the top of the cab. It wasn't until he stood up that Ruby realized it was a man, and once again she was stricken by fear.

The man was… well, _grotesque_ seemed like an appropriate word, but she wouldn't dare say it out loud. It almost looked as if he'd been set on fire, with parts of his armor melted and scorched and more than half of his face blackened beyond recognition. Ruby would have felt bad for being afraid of him were it not for the blood smeared and spattered across his armor… and the bits of debris sticking out from his arm and leg that apparently didn't cause him any discomfort as he walked slowly out of the elevator… and the single, burning red eye that stared straight into her soul. It looked just like Aspen's.

"W-who are you?" the scythe-wielder stammer-demanded, pointing her weapon at the man.

The man's mouth cracked open and a rasp escaped his throat, almost like laughter. It wasn't the reaction Ruby was expecting. "Are all _havneel_ children as foolish as you?" The unburned half of his face twisted into a sneer. Lazily lifting his arm, he pointed down at Pyrrha's unmoving form. "If you truly wish to know who I am, ask _her._ " He laughed again, though with much more cruelty this time. "Assuming she survives, that is."

The implication was clear. "You did this to her?" Weiss asked, also holding ready to fight. "Why?"

The man turned his eye to her, and Ruby caught the way her partner tensed up. "She was in my way, as you are now." He took a step forward, but the two girls raised their weapons higher and he snarled. "I have no desire to kill you. My _koravah_ is sated—my mission complete—but I will not hesitate to end your lives and finish off your friend if you do not move aside _now_." Ruby gripped Crescent Rose tighter and glanced toward Weiss. The older girl returned the look and nodded. They weren't going to let this man get away with hurting Pyrrha.

Before they could get a chance to attack, however, a large sword was suddenly separating them, angled toward the burned man's throat. "Don't."

It took Ruby a second to process what was going on. The sword… The voice… "Uncle Qrow?"

Sure enough, the man who had trained her had joined them in the room. Ruby felt a huge confidence boost at seeing him on their side but, for some reason, he was giving her and Weiss a warning look. "Girls, get out of the way."

Ruby's grip on Crescent Rose slackened. "W-what? But we—"

" _Don't_ ," he said again, harshly enough that Ruby backed off with no more questions. She still kept her weapon ready just in case, and Weiss did the same. Qrow turned his gaze to the unidentified man. "Get out of here."

Cocking his head to look at Qrow, the man flared his nostrils. "A wise decision."

Ruby didn't understand the next thing he said—something in a different language, she guessed—but whatever it was made her uncle narrow his eyes. Then, with a smirk, he said something back in the same, weird language, which seemed to catch the burned man off guard. His red eye widened in surprise, but his expression quickly turned to anger and he spat at Qrow. He said something else, and Ruby thought she heard the word "havneel" again, but that didn't do anything to help her understand what had been said. The two men glared at each other for a few seconds before the burned man turned to leave. He paused briefly to scowl at Ruby, but passed without incident.

The moment he was gone, Ruby turned to look at her uncle. "What was that?! Why did you let him go?"

Qrow seemed to ignore her question, walking over to kneel down beside Pyrrha. "Your friend won't last long out here. We need to get her to a hospital." Looking up at Ruby, he held out his sword to her. When she hesitated to take it, he rolled his eyes. "Look, I'll explain things as best I can later, but right now I need you to make a stretcher for the girl." Relenting, Ruby took the sword and got to work. As she pulled her cloak off and began to lash it to her and her uncle's weapons, she listened to his conversation with Weiss. "How much Ice Dust do you have?"

"Not much. About a third of a vial."

"That'll do. Give it to me. Burn?"

"Here. Are you going to take the sword out?"

"No, but it's too long for us to carry her safely." Ruby looked up at her uncle as he grumbled to himself. With one hand full of Weiss's Ice Dust and the other Burn, he cupped them over Pyrrha's sword, just above her body. "Ah, this is going to hurt."

Ruby gasped as he channeled his Aura directly into the Ice Dust. A cold glow shone out from where his fingers pressed against the metal and a layer of frost began to form over the surface. After a moment, he activated the Burn Dust. The sword creaked under the sudden temperature change and then, with a twist of his hands, Qrow snapped the weapon in two. Casting what was left of it aside, he rubbed his hands together to equalize their temperature. "Well," he drawled, pain in his voice, "I wasn't sure that was going to work. Ruby, how's that stretcher coming?"

"Ah, a-almost done." The girl turned back to finish tying her cloak to Crescent Rose. "There."

"Good." Still rubbing his hands together, he stood up and nodded down at Pyrrha. "Alright. Get her loaded up and we'll carry her out of here." Ruby and Weiss did as instructed, lifting their friend as gently as they could and then setting her back down on the red cloak. Weiss made to help Ruby lift the makeshift stretcher, but Qrow brushed her aside. "I got it."

Weiss backed away, though not without protest. "But your hands…!"

"They'll be fine," he said, crouching down to take hold of the stretcher. "Besides, you're the only one with a weapon now."

As she coordinated with her uncle to lift and carry Pyrrha out, questions swarmed through Ruby's mind. Who was that man, and where did he come from? What was the "mission" he talked about? Did he fight the woman Jaune mentioned? What did Qrow have to do with all of this? Why did that man try to kill Pyrrha, and why did Qrow let him go? Ruby looked down at her friend, swaying in the stretcher as she and her uncle ran out of the tower, and all of the questions faded away. Her questions weren't important. What mattered now was getting Pyrrha to safety. She just hoped they wouldn't be too late.

(- -)

 _Cafeteria… Cafeteria… Gads damn it, where's the cafeteria?!_

Laurel's heart pounded in her chest as she frantically searched for the right building. She'd been there a couple of times, but that had been when the school was intact, and it wasn't as though she'd memorized the campus layout before then. All she could hope for was that she saw a landmark she recognized or, if she was lucky, she just stumbled across it.

What was she going to do when she got there? It wasn't exactly something she had put thought into before she left, but she supposed it depended on whatever she found when she got there. A part of her hoped that whatever had been going down with Aspen and the White Fang soldier Yang mentioned had been resolved, but she knew that would mean that one—or both—of them were dead. No, the best case scenario would be if they were still fighting. At least then she would have the chance to subdue them both. Somehow.

Slowing to a near-stop, the woman took stock of her surroundings. _If I'm here, the cafeteria should be…_ _ **there**_ _!_ Like the rest of Beacon, the cafeteria was in ruins, with sections of the wall and even parts of the ceiling having collapsed over the course of the night. As she approached it, Laurel could see fires burning within, but there were no signs or sounds of continuing battle. Her legs pumped faster. "Aspen? Aspen?!"

Laurel didn't see the girl at first but, when she did, she couldn't bring herself to look away. The only light came from the fire, and it lit a ghastly scene. She stood alone near one of the outer walls, shoulders heaving with every breath. Dozens of bullet holes and splits made tatters of her clothes, and the blackened scarring underneath revealed that she had not emerged from this fight unscathed. Her matted hair clung to her back, but it wasn't from sweat; it was blood. She was covered in it, down to the short, machete-like sword she held in her hand, and Laurel knew in an instant that very little—if any—was Aspen's.

Her hand rose to cover her mouth in horror, and queasiness roiled within the woman's stomach, one that brought back memories of her third year at Shade and a family mutilated by Grimm. Surrounding Aspen were the remains of what must have been several White Fang soldiers, just as soaked in blood as she was. Limbs severed, bodies slashed and carved beyond recognition, a partial decapitation… She couldn't even tell how many of them there were to begin with.

"Aspen…?"

Slowly, almost agonizingly so, the girl turned her head to look at Laurel. The woman wasn't sure what she expected to see on Aspen's face—blind rage, perhaps—but it certainly hadn't been shock. Aspen's eyes were wide and her mouth hung open dumbly. As she looked back down at the carnage around her, her breathing became more erratic, more labored. She moved her mouth, but nothing audible came out, and the sword slipped from her hand.

Laurel had no idea what to do. For years, she had tried to be as pragmatic as possible, if just to balance out Oliver's sometimes-reckless optimism, but this… This went far beyond anything she could have feared. _**Oliver**_ _. What would Oliver…?_

Against her better judgement, Laurel holstered her weapon and walked forward, stepping over the rubble that was strewn about the floor. As she got closer to the girl, the stench of blood and the slickness beneath her feet nearly made her stop, but she continued regardless. Aspen didn't react to her approach until Laurel reached out to touch her and, once again, the woman was surprised by what she saw when the girl turned to look at her. Her expression hadn't changed, but tears had unmistakably begun to form in her eyes. " _I… I didn't…"_ she whispered.

Laurel wrapped her arms around the girl as best she could, cutting her off. She grimaced as her skin and clothes were smeared with ichor but, despite being taller than her, the blood-soaked girl in her arms suddenly felt much, much smaller. "I know," she said softly. Aspen hadn't exactly returned the embrace, but Laurel could feel the way she was shaking nonetheless. _Oh, gods._ Lifting a hand, she awkwardly stroked the girl's hair. "It's alright, Aspen. Everything's going to be alright."

Things were definitely _not_ going to be alright.

* * *

 **Man, every time I go through this chapter, I just feel breathless at the end. To date, this is the longest chapter I've ever written for anything at almost 9500 words, and I hope you enjoyed it. We've officially wrapped up the Battle of Beacon story arc or, as I call it, "Aspen and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Night." She tried so hard…**

 **On the other side of things, Deirean's gotten his revenge on Cinder as promised and, with Adam now out of the picture as well, has established himself as the primary antagonist of this story. If I'm being honest, though, that was the real purpose of Pyrrha's scene in the last chapter. For as imposing as Deirean is, he hadn't actually done anything villainous. I won't apologize for it, though, because Pyrrha's not dead, as some of you thought, and Deirean told her some** _ **very**_ **interesting things.**

 **Breaking away from the chapter, I have a bit of an announcement to make. I've done this a few times with this story, but I've got to take another hiatus from writing. My last semester of college is coming up and I've put some stuff off that I now need to focus my attention on. I'll try to not make it too long of a break but, for now, au revoir!**

 **P.S. If you're into RWBY's music, there's a lowkey "I Burn" reference in this chapter that I'm pretty proud of.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey, all. So, wow, it has been a long time since I uploaded. College has kept me much busier than I thought it would, and I haven't had many opportunities to write for fun. I appreciate your patience, though, and while I can't say that I'm going to be going back to a semi-normal schedule any time soon, I don't want you all to think I've dropped this story. I've still got a bunch of things to cover that I think are cool, and I hope you enjoy them too.**

* * *

" _In our leading story, investigators continue to piece together the events surrounding last week's devastating attack on the Vytal Festival. Fragments of self-terminating code have been found in both Beacon's CCT Tower and the Atlesian battleship that was hijacked during the fighting. Experts suggest that code of this sophistication is beyond the capability of the White Fang, supporting the theory that this attack was orchestrated by an outside entity. Efforts to identify this entity have so far been fruitless, but investigators have focused their attention on noted criminal Roman Torchwick. Torchwick, who has been connected to several recent heists involving the White Fang, was being held on the battleship prior to its hijacking and has since disappeared. In a recent statement, General James Ironwood of Atlas had this to say on the matter:"_

' _The Atlesian military is currently investigating the circumstances around Roman Torchwick's escape from our custody as well as his involvement in the Vytal Festival attack. We are giving the Valian investigators our full cooperation and will continue to offer our support in maintaining order. I understand it offers little comfort for those who saw Atlas soldiers firing on civilians, but I believe I speak for all of Atlas when I say our thoughts are with all those affected by the attack. Thank you.'_

" _Despite the general's call for solidarity, tensions remain high between Atlas and Vale. Recent polls show public opinion for Atlas at its lowest level since the Great War, with over eighty percent of respondents saying that the Atlas military should leave the city and sixty percent placing responsibility for the attack on Atlas. The Valian Council continues to allow the Atlesian military to remain in the city, however, citing a need for cooperation in a trying time._

" _In related news, the Mistrali Combat Tournament Association has begun an official review of Pyrrha Nikos's four tournament wins. Miss Nikos, who was hospitalized following the Vytal Festival attack, was—"_

The television screen winked off before the story could continue. With a sigh, Jaune lowered his arm and set the remote back down on the edge of the bed. For the past week, pretty much everything on the news had been about the Vytal Festival attack, including dragging Pyrrha's name through the mud. He'd been angry the first few days—angry at them, angry at the people who had taken charge, angry at himself—but now he was just tired. All he wanted was to have Pyrrha back. Then, maybe, he could find a new normal. He certainly didn't want this to be it.

Jaune turned his head to where his partner lay, unmoving in the hospital bed next to him. He'd refused to leave her side since she'd gotten out of surgery, but it never got any easier to see her like this. Pyrrha Nikos was unquestionably the strongest, bravest, and most selfless person he knew, but now she looked so fragile. Unwashed and removed from its ponytail, her hair pooled around her head to accentuate just how much paler than usual she was. Wires snaked out from beneath a thin gown to connect to various monitors and an IV dripped a steady mix of saline and pain medication into her arm, but it was the tubes inserted through her nose that really hurt him to see. She was helpless, unable to even feed herself. Even if she had been conscious, the doctors had said that the damage to her internal organs had been so traumatic that she wouldn't be able to eat solid food for at least a month while they healed, regardless of her Aura.

Jaune took her hand in his, taking comfort in the warmth he felt there. She was alive. That was what mattered in that moment. That was what he held on to.

There was a twitch beneath Jaune's hand, the brushing of a finger against his palm. Gripping Pyrrha's hand tighter, he dropped his head down against the bedrail. It hadn't been the first time he'd felt her move, and he knew by then that it wasn't a conscious action. Her fingers would twitch every now and then, nervous spasms as her body attempted to repair itself, but she had yet to regain lucidity. He sighed and wearily ran his thumb over her fingers. _Please, Pyrrha…_

"… _Jaune?_ "

He froze at the whispered word. Ren and Nora had gone to get food, and aside from the guard posted by the door, there was no one else in the room. That could only mean… With a start, he lifted his head back up and was greeted by a pair of emerald eyes looking up at him. They were bleary and dim, but unquestionably open and aware. Every muscle in his chest contracted at once, and he had to choke back the sob that threatened to tear itself loose. "Pyrrha!"

The bedridden girl slowly rolled her head over to look around the room. "W-where are we?" she asked weakly.

Jaune swallowed the lump in his throat. "A hospital in Vale." He couldn't be bothered to remember which one, not that it mattered. "You almost…" _Died._ There was no way he'd say it out loud. "We thought we were going to lose you. I thought _I_ was going to lose you."

Pyrrha blinked once, and then shut her eyes as though overcome by pain. "I'm sorry," she said, voice breaking. The words brought back memories, ones Jaune wished he didn't have to remember but knew he shouldn't forget. Their kiss—their _first_ kiss, and what she had no doubt expected to be their last—her decision to sacrifice herself instead of running away, the way she pushed him into that locker so he couldn't stop her… It was enough to reignite the fire inside of him. "I am _so_ sor—"

" _ **Don't.**_ " It was perhaps more forceful than he intended, but this wasn't the time for her to apologize. That could wait until she was better. "This isn't—" He cut himself off, shaking his head as he reigned in his anger. "You're awake now. You're _alive_. That's what's important right now." After a moment, Pyrrha nodded, though it was clear she was still struggling with the whole situation.

Jaune didn't feel like he was faring much better. Hanging his head, he wiped away the moisture in his eyes as he tried to work out something else to say. "It's, uh… It's been about a week now. Since the attack, that is." Pyrrha's hand tensed in his, and he gave it a squeeze. "They got the Grimm cleared out of Beacon, but a lot of the buildings are wrecked, so they've set up temporary housing for those of us who need it at one of the hotels in Vale. Between all the travel restrictions and all the questions they keep asking us, though, it doesn't really seem like anyone's going to be going anywhere soon." He chuckled wearily. "It's kinda weird, but they were even asking me questions about that girl—"

The sudden tightening of Pyrrha's grip had the blond halting mid-sentence. He lifted his head back up to find her eyes were focused on the opposite end of the bed. "Jaune…" There was a tremor in her voice, and tears visibly welled in her eyes. "I can't feel my legs."

Jaune practically broke down himself at her words, but he knew he needed to be supportive. "I know." He did his best to ignore the terrified look Pyrrha gave him. He'd only been able to get vague descriptions of the wound, but the man who had done this—the one that Ruby's uncle had let go free—had pushed Miló so far through her that he'd completely severed her spine. "The man you fought… The doctors couldn't fully repair the damage he did. They, um… They think you might eventually be able to walk again, but…" The doctors had tried to be optimistic around Nora, Ren, and the others, but Jaune had pressed one when there had been no one else in the room. The odds that she would ever regain the full use of her legs was slim, to say nothing of her being able to fight again. For all intents and purposes, that part of her life was over.

Pyrrha's hand shook as she pulled it away from Jaune's to cover her mouth. Tears now flowed freely from the emerald eyes fixed on the lumps her deadened feet made in the thick white blankets piled onto the bed. Jaune shifted forward in his chair to placed his hands on his partner's arm. He swallowed. "Pyrrha, I—"

Behind him, the door to the room swished open and Professor Goodwitch stepped in around the privacy curtain. She paused on seeing them, forehead creased and mouth twisted into a frown. "I apologize for interrupting," she said, gesturing back the way she came. "Your guard was told to inform me when you woke up."

Wiping away her tears, Pyrrha tried to smile at the Professor, but there was no denying how weak and forced it was. "W-what can we do for you, P-Professor?"

Jaune hadn't needed to ask to know. "She's here to ask you about what happened," he said, voice low. As far as he knew, pretty much everyone had been questioned at one point or another, whether by Beacon staff or Atlas military personnel or Valian investigators. He turned his gaze toward the Professor, barely suppressing the scowl on his face. "Can't it wait? She just woke up."

If Goodwitch had picked up the aggression in his voice, she didn't react to it as she simply lifted her hand to cut him off. "I understand, and I have no intention of interrupting Miss Nikos's recovery." She turned her head to the girl in question. "I just wanted to let you know that if you need anything, you need only ask. When you're ready, though, I do have questions I'd like to ask you."

"I'll talk now."

Jaune turned his head to his partner. "Pyrrha?" What was she doing? She'd just woken up, for gods' sakes! She hadn't even had time to…

Pyrrha met his gaze, face drawn but confident. Her hand slipped back into his. "I need to," she said, her voice just above a whisper. Jaune stared at her for a moment, trying to understand what that was supposed to mean, but relented with a nod. Pyrrha closed her eyes. "The man who attacked me… Deirean… He said impossible things… I…" Her voice faltered, and Jaune squeezed her hand tighter. When she opened her eyes, she looked over to the expectant woman on the far side of the room. "Professor Goodwitch, do you know what the Old Rephaim are?"

(- -)

"How many times do we have to have this argument Blake? How many times?!"

"Yang, you don't understand! Adam and the White Fang are still out there! As long as I'm here, you're all in danger!"

"Damn it, that's not how it works! If they really want to hurt us, do you honestly believe that you _not_ being here will somehow stop them?"

"Yes! You're only here because of me! I disappear, and you and Ruby can go back to Patch."

"And what about Weiss, huh? You're just going to leave her here alone?"

The door to Team RWBY's temporary room clicked shut as Ruby closed it. With a sigh, she slumped back into the wooden frame. Behind her, she could still hear the argument her sister and Blake were having, one they'd been having for the past week now. It didn't appear to be ending anytime soon, either. That was what it had been like since the Battle of Beacon, as some of the other students had taken to calling it. The two of them barely talked to one another, and when they did, it usually led to yelling. Ruby hated it. She had thought that by staying here instead of going home, they could be strong together, but instead their team was slowly unravelling.

"Are they arguing again?" Ruby turned her head to see Weiss coming down the hallway toward her, and the sight was enough to lift her spirits some. Despite everything going on, she knew she could rely on Weiss. They were best friends after all, no matter how much the heiress protested it.

"Yeah," she answered dejectedly with a shake of her head. "Sometimes… Sometimes I wish I knew what to say, you know? Like, they're fighting because I don't know how to handle it."

Weiss's hand was a comforting presence as it settled on her shoulder. "Don't do that to yourself. It's not your fault they're arguing." She winced as something light thumped against the door, accompanied by a frustrated yell from Yang. Ruby stepped away warily. "Whatever's going on between them, they need to sort it out themselves."

Ruby cast a nervous glance at the door, but nodded. "I guess." Her eyes lit up as they settled on the door across the hall. "I heard Pyrrha woke up!" she said, trying to stay cheerful. "I was going to go see her. You want to come?"

Weiss's eyebrows shot up. "O-oh! I-I'd love to." She said it with a smile, but it was clear that she was forcing it. Ruby looked at her for a moment, but eventually decided to brush it off. It wasn't like that type of behavior was unusual these days.

As she led Weiss toward the elevators, though, Ruby could tell her partner had something more on her mind. The way her eyes kept shifting to the side and she kept pulling at the hem of her skirt… She had something to say, and Ruby dreaded to hear what it was.

"Ruby, I… I need to tell you something."

 _No…_ Ruby came to a stop in the middle of the hallway, not wanting to look back. Weiss sounded the same way Blake had when she'd told them of her intention to leave them. _Please, no…_ She didn't want to make things any more difficult for Weiss than she had to, though, so she tried to keep her expression as neutral as she could when she turned around. She didn't think she succeeded. "W-what is it?"

Weiss briefly met her eyes, but quickly closed her own. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and cupped her hand behind her waist. Her eyes were still closed. "I… I got a call from my father today. He wants me to come back to Atlas with General Ironwood."

Ruby's legs went numb, but by some miracle she remained standing. _Not you too, Weiss. Not you!_ "But… but you're not going to, right? You're going to stay here with us?" The other girl's silence was telling. "Please, don't leave me Weiss…"

"I have to, Ruby." Weiss finally opened her eyes, and it was clear she was trying to fight back tears. "It's my father. I don't have a choice."

Ruby looked down, tears clouding her vision. Weiss… Weiss was going to leave her. Penny was… gone, they were already losing Blake, and with Pyrrha in the hospital and the rest of JNPR with her, it was going to be just her and Yang again. Alone, as if Beacon had never happened. Ruby took a deep breath. _Be strong. You have to be strong._ Composing herself, she forced a smile onto her face as she met Weiss's gaze again. " _Okay,_ " she whispered.

"Ruby, I—"

The girl shook her head, wiping away the dampness left in her eyes. "No, it's fine. If you have to leave, I-I understand." She didn't, not really, but she understood that there was nothing she could say to convince her to stay. Like Weiss had said, this was something she was going to have to sort out on her own. Ruby found it difficult to convince herself that that was true.

Silence reigned on the elevator ride down to the lobby. Ruby tried to occupy her thoughts with anything else, but she couldn't ignore the unravelling in her life. She wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball right there in the elevator and cry, but she knew that wouldn't make anything better. The problem was, she didn't know _how_ to make things better. She would go see her friends. She nodded to herself as she stepped out of the elevator. _That will have to do for—_

"Woah, h-ooof!"

Ruby rubbed her forehead where she had walked into something hard, hard enough to knock her to the floor. In front of her was a white-haired faunus—he had fluffy lemur ears on the top of his head—rubbing his chest where she had hit him. She gasped and scrambled to her feet. "Ah! I'm sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going!"

The boy grunted as he climbed back to his feet as well. "It's fine Ruby." He smiled politely at her. "No harm, no foul, right?"

Ruby blinked. Did she… Did she know him? He seemed familiar, but there were a lot of people in her class she didn't— "Ilex!" The teen in question flinched. Ruby covered her mouth, feeling a warmth creeping up cheeks. Beside her, Weiss had lifted a hand to cover her face. "S-sorry," Ruby said at a much more normal level. _Uh, now what? Wait, do they know each other? I should make sure._ "Ilex, this is—

"I know who she is."

"I know who he is."

Ruby froze at the simultaneous response. "Uh, okay." _That was weird._ "Sooooo, what's up?"

"I, um…" Ilex faltered, rubbing his shoulder. Ruby felt like she must have infected him with her awkwardness when she bumped into him; he hadn't been like this when she met him. "You know, just heading up to my room."

"O-oh, that's nice." Ruby mentally slapped herself for the stupidity of her comment. Trying to salvage the situation, she spit out the first thing that came to her mind. "We're going to the hospital."

Ilex's gaze softened. "Everything's okay, I hope?"

Ruby had already begun nodding before she realized what it sounded like she had said. "Oh, no! Yes!" She shook her head. "We're both fine. It's just, one of our friends is there. She got hurt really bad and just woke up today."

Ilex nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that. I hope she makes a full recovery." He glanced behind him, biting his lip, before turning his gaze toward Weiss. "If I can offer you a bit of advice, be careful if you go out the back. There were a couple of overeager paparazzi out there earlier." He chuckled half-heartedly. "They got me pretty good."

Weiss stiffened and thanked him, but Ruby just looked on in confusion. There had been a bunch of reporters outside the hotel for the first few days when students being moved into the hotel had been newsworthy, but she hadn't seen anything like that since. Besides, didn't paparazzi only take pictures of celebrities and famous people? _Wait…_ "Ilex, are you… famous?"

The teen cringed, but he didn't exactly go out of his way to deny it. "I should let you guys go," he said instead. He pointed over to the elevator with a forced smile. "Besides, Rhys has probably destroyed the room again and I know no one else is going to fix it up."

It may have been an obvious deflection, but Ruby found herself genuinely smiling at the thought of her friend's antics. "Alright. Say hi to him and Aspen for me."

Ilex's reaction was not exactly what Ruby had expected. He froze, finger on the elevator call button. Slowly, he pulled it away. "Aspen… You… You wouldn't happen to have seen or heard from her recently, would you?"

"I…" Ruby wasn't sure if she considered Aspen a "friend" or not, but the way Ilex had gotten all serious had her worried. "No, I haven't. Are you saying you haven't?"

Ilex shook his head. "None of us have, not since she ran off with your sister. I tried asking Mantis and Tawny about it, but all I got out of them was that Professor Goodwitch and that Atlesian General took her away the morning after. Haven't seen them since."

That sounded bad. Ruby glanced to Weiss. She seemed to be having similar thoughts, if the way her lips were drawn tight and her eyebrows were furrowed were anything to go on. "If General Ironwood took her away, it's possible he suspects she had some involvement in the attack."

Ilex shook his head. "That's what he said when he tried to arrest her on the colosseum, but… I don't know. I just have a hard time believing she had something to do with it."

"She attacked our team," Weiss pointed out. "She tried to _kill_ us."

Ilex winced. "I know, but she was also willing to put herself in danger to save your teammates. She was one of the first people on the ground and she tried her best to save everyone she could. Plus, she did this thing with the giant Nevermore that was attacking…"

Ruby raised an eyebrow when he trailed off. "Thing?"

Ilex just shook his head again. "I don't know. I was probably just imagining things." He looked up at them with a grim expression. "Just… if you guys hear anything, let me or Rhys or, hell, even Carmine know, alright?"

Ruby nodded. "I will. I'm sorry we can't help more." She raised her hand in a polite wave. "See you around, Ilex."

(- -)

 _The Beowolf crept from the shadows, sniffing at the cold night air. Something… Something was close. As she stepped out into the frigid snow, the presence of Light settled onto the Beowolf's night-black fur, and the pain of anger set her skin on fire. With a snarl, she took off toward the Light, intent on snuffing it out._

 _Swallowed by Dark,_ _ **Lotehm**_ _and its luminance were lost in the night sky, which bled a dark red above. Flecks of ice shone in the vast field of blood, but they did nothing to illuminate the ground below. That did not matter to the Beowolf. Trees, slopes, and rocks did little to slow her progress. She had her trail, and she would follow it to the end._

 _The Beowolf found the Lights in a small clearing. There were three of them, amorphous beings with blades and fire-throwers. Each one felt different, and yet there was a haunting familiarity to them, one the Beowolf did not comprehend. The first felt of volcanic stone, rough and glass-like; the second of coarse fur, not unlike her own; and the third of splintered wood, like a tree shattered by a Goliath. The Lights faced away from the Beowolf, and so did not see her until she was upon them._

 _Wood fell first, hitting the ground as the Beowolf leapt upon him. Her teeth sunk into his chest and his blood poured out, hot in her mouth. With incoherent, angry yells, the other two Lights attacked the Beowolf. Their blades and fire-throwers did nothing to harm her, however, passing through her body as though they did not exist. These Lights fell just as quickly as the first, the Beowolf's claws splitting Stone open at the stomach and piercing Fur through the chest. As the final corpse fell to the ground, the Beowolf let out a victorious howl. She had waited so long for Death to come, and now she could gorge herself._

 _When the Beowolf crouched down over one of the bodies, however, a cold feeling of emptiness overcame her. She paused, lifting her head in an attempt to locate the source of the sudden despair. She was still alone in the clearing, but it was now bathed in a pale white light, reflecting off of the fallen snow. Lotehm had returned to the sky, but something was wrong with it. The Beowolf had never seen it before, and yet she knew on instinct that it wasn't supposed to be in so many pieces. Rising up on her hind legs, she gazed at it in confusion. The despair was there._

 _As she stared, Lotehm grew larger and its light grew brighter. It took the Beowolf a moment to realize that it was falling toward her and she nearly bolted so that she might avoid being crushed. The moment her paws came back down to touch the snow, however, Lotehm vanished once again. Motionless, the Beowolf waited for her eyes to readjust to the darkness, only to notice another, smaller Light had appeared before her. She crept up to it, lowering her head to carefully sniff it. It was a Light, of that she was certain, but it didn't have the feel of other Lights. It burned cold, as though it were of the Dark. She huffed, her breath coming out in a burst of steam, but the Light did not stir. Opening her jaws, she made to pick it up in her mouth._

 _ **Bam-bam-bam!**_

 _The Beowolf staggered back as a trio of fire-thrower stones slammed into her side, sending her off-balance and falling into the snow. Fire burned within her, limiting her movement and making it difficult to breathe. She tried to lift herself back to her feet, but the fire was too great. As she slumped back down, she felt two powerful Lights approaching her, one of scorched powder and the other of a tree, knotted and ancient. The Beowolf knew she would not survive this._

 _Powder walked around to where the Beowolf could see her, her large fire-thrower still trailing smoke from its tip. As the Beowolf looked up at the Light, she felt the vague recognition she'd felt of the first three Lights, but stronger this time. She rocked her head to catch a glimpse of Tree, and felt the same. Why? Her eyes turned back to Powder as she knelt down before her. The Light had no face, but the look in her eyes made the burning fire inside the Beowolf turn to the coldest ice._

" _What did you do?" Powder asked. The Beowolf, of course, had no answer. She stayed silent as the Light shook her head and stood back up. As she lifted her fire-shooter again, the Beowolf thought to itself that this was for the best, though she couldn't be sure why. "It's alright. Everything's going to be alright."_

Aspen's eyes fluttered open as consciousness returned to her, images of Beowolves and Light fading from her thoughts. She looked around, struggling to focus and remember where she was. It was as though a thick fog had settled in her mind, and now she was left to stumble her way around it. She made to pick herself up, but was stopped by the a sharp tug of metal on her arms. She looked down, only mildly confused to see the large, glove-like cuffs that bound her hands and wrists to the floor. A number crawled its way out of the fog, and she picked it up. _433685, 433686, 433687…_ Counting the seconds… She had started it when the cuffs had been first been placed on her but, with as often as she was unconscious, she couldn't be certain about the accuracy of the count.

She took another look around at the room she had been placed in. _Not a room._ _ **Cell.**_ It was cold and hard and cramped, barely enough room for her to spread out, had she been able. Being chained to the floor prevented her from even standing, and though she'd been given a small cushion to rest against, she had difficulty remembering where that had gone. Then there was the… _tube_ that had been inserted into her stomach through her nose. She didn't know what it was, but people kept coming in and putting a thick liquid through it. She vaguely remembered those moments, as they were often preceded by someone else injecting her with the same, reddish-brown sedative she'd been given after she'd attacked her team. The conditions didn't bother her. The people who held her were afraid of her, and they were right to be.

A wave of pain washed over Aspen's head, forcing her eyes shut. When she did, she was greeted by the image of three corpses lying in a pool of blood, if they could even be called corpses. _Wood. Stone. Fur._ She had torn those people apart. She had given in to her inner desires and cut them to pieces with their own blades. She felt… She felt _**guilt**_. Deirean had warned her that this day would come, but she had ignored him. What would happen now? She didn't _want_ to join him—not if it meant killing even more people—but if the Humans and Faunus now saw her for what she was, what choice did she have?

Through her eyelids, Aspen made out a light appearing before her. Carefully, she opened them. The pain was still there, but it was bearable. The light was coming from a hole in the door to her cell, and there was the silhouette of a man's face framed behind it. This… also felt familiar. Men and women coming in to ask her questions about the attack and the White Fang and Cinder. She found it difficult to answer their questions most times, as hazy as the sedatives made her, but she did her best.

Sometimes, though, they didn't even ask her questions. Sometimes, they just hit her, spitting words like "monster" and "freak." Whatever bruises and broken bones she suffered healed by the time they left but, in those moments of clarity when the pain overrode the sedative, she knew why they did what they did. They hated her. She felt it as clearly as she felt their fists and clubs against her body and heard their words in her ears. A part of her knew this was wrong, wanted to take their weapons and hurt them back, but she never even tried. _**Punishment.**_

This man outside her cell, however, she recognized. _Weathered stone aura… James._ He had never struck her, and she vaguely recalled his voice yelling after one of the men who had beaten her had left her cell. He often apologized to her, but he also asked the most questions—often the same ones over and over, as though to see if she would change her answer. She tried not to.

The light vanished as the hole was recovered, before flooding back in when the door opened. Aspen leaned her head back, bumping up against the metal wall behind her. James stepped into the room, his shadowy frame shrinking down in front of her. "How are you feeling today, Aspen?" he asked, his voice calm. Having heard very little in the confines of her cell, the sound was as refreshing as the cool air that swept in with him.

The tube in her throat made it difficult to speak. "Sick." The word sounded fat and sluggish in Aspen's ears, slowly falling out of her mouth. She'd been fed recently, and the sedative was still fresh in her system.

"I'm sorry to hear that. We can try reducing the frequency of your feedings again, but I'm afraid there's not much we can do about the formula right now." James stood, easily blocking most of the light from outside the cell. Aspen felt small beneath him before he closed the door and cut the light off completely. "You'll be happy to know that I won't be asking you any more questions about the attack on Beacon. You've been cooperative so far, and I believe that you had nothing to do with it."

Aspen looked up to where his voice was coming from. His aura was a whirl of emotions as it always was—pity, worry, fear, suspicion—but she felt no deceit. "Will you let me go, then? Or will you just kill me."

"Not yet," the man replied. It occurred to Aspen that she didn't know which question he was answering. "I have something new I'd like to talk to you about." Aspen winced as his aura suddenly ground against her skin in anger. "Tell me about you and Deirean. Tell me about the Rephiam."

* * *

 **In retrospect, this is probably the most depressing chapter I've written, in the sense that a lot of bad things have happened to the characters and they're having a hard time seeing the silver lining. It's there, though. Somewhere. Things will get better.**

 **I hope you enjoyed! Au revoir!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hello, all! I'm not gone! Life just got stupid crazy with no time to work on stories, but I'm kind of back now. So, I haven't uploaded since October, and I know how much a three month gap like that can kill a fic if you just jump right back in, so I wrote up a recap to help out. I tried to keep it as short as I could, but 24 chapters is a lot to condense, and there are some important bits I didn't want to gloss over. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _Prior to being found in the Vacuan desert by hunters Oliver Cyprus and Laurel Tawn, Aspen Gray had no identity. Oliver and Laurel soon learned that she was an above average fighter with incredible healing ability, and decided to take her to the upcoming Vytal Festival in hopes of leading her down the path of a Huntress. After attacking Team RWBY, however, Aspen was forcefully recruited into Beacon Academy and placed on a team of underachieving students; Rhys Bauril, Carmine Embry, and Ilex Jae._

 _While hunting Grimm in the Emerald Forest, Aspen discovered an underground structure filled with large pods hidden at the bottom of a massive chasm. She found it familiar, but she knew that she had never been there before. While exploring the structure, Aspen encountered a man named Deirean, who revealed the truth of what they both were: Rephaim, a forgotten precursor to the Grimm with the ability to sense Aura and emotion as a physical-often painful-sensation. Despite her desire to follow him and learn more about herself, Deirean insisted that they part ways for the time being._

 _Concerned about the potential effects the rephaim could have on her plans, Cinder Fall attempted to recruit them to her side. Both of them refused her offers, and Deirean's encounter resulted in a vow to kill both Cinder and Emerald Sustrai, who he dubbed Decay and Wax due to their Aura signatures._

 _When Cinder disrupted the Vytal Festival tournament, both Deirean and Aspen were able to influence a number of Grimm to leave, sparing Vale from the devastation. Plagued by murderous impulses spurred on by intense pain caused by the negativity around her, Aspen led her team in defense of Beacon before going with Yang Xiao Long to find her partner, Blake Belladonna. After having her throat cut and being stabbed in the chest by Adam Taurus, Aspen's will finally broke and she attacked Adam with his own sword. When Laurel finally found her, Aspen had cut off Adam's arm and butchered several White Fang members, much to her own despair._

 _Meanwhile, Deirean tracked the new Fall Maiden Cinder to the CCT tower. Before he could get to her, however, he was confronted by Pyrrha Nikos, who saw blood on his stolen Atlesian armor. Deirean easily defeated Pyrrha, nearly killing her and paralyzing her in the process. After climbing the tower and engaging in a second fight, Deirean defeated Cinder as well, and fulfilled part of his vow by snapping her neck. As he left the tower, he encountered Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee. Qrow Branwen arrived before Deirean could attack the two girls, but allowed him to leave after exchanging several words in the Rephaite language._

 _A week later, Pyrrha woke up from a medically induced coma and related information on the Rephaim to Glynda Goodwitch. Aspen, Oliver, and Laurel were taken into custody by the Atlesian military on suspicion of involvement in the attack. With the information from Pyrrha, James Ironwood questioned Aspen on the Rephaim._

(- -)

The sky over Beacon was clear and bright. A less cynical person might say it was a nice day, one filled with unity and hope for the future and other sentimental crap like that. Qrow looked at Beacon and saw a sun-bleached corpse. There were signs of life, sure, with workers sorting through the rubble and beginning the rebuilding process but, to the veteran hunter, they looked like scavengers picking through the bones of the school. It wasn't a perfect analogy, but it was the one that came to mind first, and the one that stuck.

It would be a few weeks before Beacon even came close to being up and running again. The whole place was practically a huge crime scene, with people taking notes of every little thing and logging it all somewhere. Qrow wasn't a part of that, but he'd passed through enough times that he recognized many of those people on his way. It didn't give him a good feeling.

Nor did entering the CCT Tower. Of all the places on Beacon, that had been the place to be cleaned up first. Had to keep communications with the other Kingdoms secure and all that. Even as he flashed his ID to a soldier standing guard, though, he could still picture his niece in the foyer, standing over the body of her friend. He grumbled to himself, imagining the conversation he still needed to have with her.

Pushing his way through a door, Qrow stepped into an adjunct building, Ozpin's office was still blown to hell, so "Acting Headmistress" Goodwitch had set up shop in a nearby office so that she'd have easy access to the CCT. It probably also had something to do with the fact that it had avoided having Grimm plow through its walls.

"I understand that, _James_ , but that doesn't mean you have to rush in the instant you find him!"

Qrow frowned. By the sound of things, Glynda was in the middle of a discussion with everyone's least-favorite Atlesian General. Qrow craned his neck to get a better look into the office as he approached. Glynda was alone, leaning over a desk covered with barely organized stacks of papers. Despite the enormous amount of stress she was under, she somehow managed to keep herself looking as presentable as always. There was a scroll propped up in the middle of the desk, and Qrow could just make out Jimmy's picture on its screen. The huntsman didn't bother to announce his presence as he stepped into the office and leaned against the doorframe. Glynda barely spared him a glance. "At least tell me you'll be bringing Knights in to apprehend him?" she asked the scroll with a sigh.

" _All Knights and Paladins are still offline,_ " the scroll responded. Qrow could hear the resignation in James's voice, not something heard often. " _The Council is concerned that their presence will cause a panic._ "

"And sending a platoon of soldiers into the city somehow won't?" Glynda snapped back, gesturing out toward the city despite not being on a video call. It just so happened to be the same direction as Qrow, and he found himself standing up just a little straighter. Glynda leaned forward again, her eyes fixing on James's portrait. "You, of all people, should know how foolish this is. He can sense Aura. He'll know you're coming and—"

"— _and we'll still have the upper hand. If what we've been told about the Rephaim is true, he won't be prepared for our technology or tactics, no matter how much experience he has._ "

Qrow stood away from the doorframe. _They know about the Rephaim?_

For a moment, Glynda seemed ready to continue to argue, but she dropped her head in defeat. "I hope you know what you're doing, James."

There was a pause on the other end. " _If there was any other way…_ "

"I know," Glynda said, with no attempt to house the bitterness in her voice. "Just… be careful."

" _I will._ "

Glynda tapped the screen, ending the call. After a moment, she lifted her head to address her visitor, all traces of weakness buried away. "Aren't you supposed to be starting your search for the new Fall Maiden, Qrow?"

"Yeah, probably. Still wrapping up some loose ends before I head out, though. Had a favor to ask." The man stepped into the office, across to stand in front of the desk. "Before I get to that, though, maybe you could fill me in on what's going on? I mean, I get you and James are busy with the protection of Vale and all that, but I can't help but feel left out of the loop again. He said something about Rephaim?"

Glynda looked him in the eyes, but her gaze wasn't as resolute as he was accustomed to seeing. After only a few seconds, she relented, gesturing toward the door. Qrow reached over to close it. By the time he'd turned back around, Glynda had taken a seat in her chair—the only one in the room. "Miss Nikos woke up yesterday," she said, picking up her scroll. "The man you encountered calls himself Deirean. By his own account, he is impossibly old, and is one of the last members of a species called the Rephaim."

Qrow leaned against the wall opposite Glynda and scratched his jaw. "Never heard of 'em, So, there's more like him out there?"

"At least one that we know of." Turning her scroll, Glynda handed it to Qrow. "Aspen Gray. Everything we know about the Rephaim has come from her."

Qrow looked at the scroll, finding what looked to be an official report. Even scanning over the important bits, it was a curiously surreal experience. He'd heard legends of the Rephaim, passed down through generations, but seeing it all written down in such a manner made it all too real.

 _Known individuals:  
Aspen Gray - in custody  
"Deirean" - currently unaccounted for_

… _lifespans of tens of thousands of years… …enhanced strength, speed, and senses… …ability to sense Aura across great distances…_

… _characterized by black hair, red eyes, and pale skin…_

Qrow looked up from the scroll, trying to ignore the crawling sensation on his skin that told him to run. "Is this as bad as I think it is?"

Glynda pursed her lips. "Worse. Keep in mind that we have yet to verify any of this information, but we also have no reason to disbelieve it either." Qrow raised an eyebrow. "The reason we've never heard of the Rephaim is because they were effectively wiped out some thousands of years ago, if not longer. The ones that were left behind…weren't quite Rephaim."

"Grimm," Qrow filled in. "The Rephaim are Grimm."

"It is more accurate to say that the Grimm are Rephaim." Glynda sighed when Qrow gave her a look. "Those are Aspen's words, not mine."

Qrow understood the distinction, though he wasn't sure which reflected better on the Rephaim. An entire species for whom it only took a few thousand years to devolve into the worst monsters imaginable? Or one of those same monsters that had gained sentience to become something more? And where did Salem favor into all of this? Questions for another day, he supposed. "Does the Council know about this?" he asked, holding up the scroll.

Glynda nodded. "Everything but the connection to the Grimm, though I'll admit it isn't difficult to make the connection even without that knowledge. Still, it was enough for them to make capturing Deirean a top priority, even above locating Cinder Fall's associates. James is currently hunting him down in the city." Her expression soured. "And he seems intent on doing it alone."

Qrow ground his teeth. He knew he should say something, that he should suggest they help James, regardless of whether or not he wanted it. What would happen if they failed, though? Deirean knew about him, and he knew about Ruby and her friends. _"If they stand in my way again, I will not show them mercy."_ Qrow had redirected the threat to himself at the time, but that didn't take away the danger Ruby was in. As selfish as it was, he couldn't be the one to make the decision to place his friends over his family.

It was no relief to his conscience when Glynda asked, "Now, what was that favor you wanted from me?"

Qrow let out a long breath through his nose. He'd nearly forgotten about that, and now it felt all the more trivial. "Those two hunters that were with Aspen. Does James still have them in custody?"

"Oliver Cyprus and Laurel Tawn?" Glynda asked. Qrow just shrugged. It wasn't as if he had learned their names. "Last I was aware, yes. Why?"

"I want to talk with them."

Glynda narrowed her eyes. "You do understand that I am only _Acting_ Headmistress, yes? I don't have the kind of authority Ozpin did, especially not the kind that would put you in a room with the two people closest to an ongoing investigation."

Qrow held up his hands to placate her. "I know, I know. All I'm asking for is a few minutes alone with them."

Glynda met his gaze for a few moments, and Qrow almost thought she might deny him. She shook her head however, and, sighing, said, "Can I ask what it is you wish to speak with them about?"

Qrow glanced away. "I'd rather not say. It's nothing to do with the investigation, though." It was technically true. "Just a personal matter, and I'm only asking 'cause I'm gonna be leaving soon."

Glynda took a long breath before sitting down in her chair. She sat back, raising one hand to her head to gently massage her temple. "I'll see what I can do," she said at last. Qrow nodded, feeling a gnawing guilt at using his duties to pressure a friend. A few seconds passed in silence, and Qrow decided it would be best if he left. When he wrapped his hand around the door knob, though, Glynda spoke again. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

Qrow didn't turn his head. "James?"

"Yes. You're the only one of us who's seen Deirean in person. Do you believe that James can capture him?"

Letting his hand fall away from the door knob, Qrow turned around. Glynda hadn't moved from her seat, and she looked up at with him with a clear look of worry. "Honestly?" The gnawing in his stomach grew in intensity. "Cinder half burned Deirean to a crisp and he still managed to kill her with his bare hands. I'm not sure any of us can take him on alone."

Glynda's gaze dropped to the wall opposite her as Qrow silently urged her to pick up on his hints and do what he couldn't. She furrowed her eyebrows, her face twitching with a multitude of microexpressions until, all at once, her face hardened and she stood up, crop in hand. Qrow stepped aside when she waved her hand and opened the door with her Semblance. She walked past him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floors. Cautiously, Qrow poked his head out the door, only for Glynda to turn around and fix him with a hard look. "Well, are you coming?"

(- -)

Crouched on the edge of a building, Deirean looked out at the bay the settlement called Vale was built around. It was strange to see how the havneel had deformed the land so drastically. He was certain that this bay had once been a river, too insignificant to even warrant naming. Now, it was so wide that great ships could pass by one another five at a time and not fear colliding with one another.

It did not feel so long ago that he had travelled the forests here by the sea, but he could feel the pull of time in his body. Nearly sixty thousand years on the surface before returning to the havashah. He felt twice that age. _Over two-hundred-and-fifty thousand years in the havashah._ Well beyond the lifespan of a rephaite on the surface. That time had taken its toll on him, and his wounds were taking longer to heal. With the magics that havneel now possessed, he felt no shame in arming himself with a kopis taken from the havashah's stockpile. With no one to tend to them, the wooden sheath and even the specially treated leather grip had rotted away long ago, but the slender blade remained as keen as ever, a testament to rephaite steel-working.

Deirean turned his gaze to the buildings along the shoreline. While it was true that his battle with Decay had taken longer for him to recover from than he had expected, he had not spent the last eight days licking his wounds. If he were to return the rephaim to power, he did not have time to sit idle. He had sworn to kill both Decay and Wax, however, and he was only halfway done. Tracking a single person in a settlement of millions was not easy to accomplish, but he had finally located her in this less-populated section.

A curious chill ran down his spine. Deirean reached out with his presence, searching for any dangers around him, but felt next to nothing. That, he realized, was what he was finding so strange. There were fewer people in this part of the settlement, yes, but there were too few now. Far too few. Deirean rose to his feet, tuning his presence even further out. _There._ At the edge of his range, two signatures, barely perceptible. He turned to look in their direction.

Something large slammed into the right side of Deirean's chest, piercing through his ribcage and knocking him from the roof. The rephaite landed on his back, his ribs fracturing further under the impact with the hard street. Whatever struck him _whirred_ inside his chest before punching out through his back and digging into his flesh. Snarling in pain and rage, Deirean propped himself up on one arm and clutched at his chest.

A silver cylinder protruded almost two inches from the armor he had taken from the soldier he'd killed. It was about an inch in diameter and featureless save for several slits running its length. Growling, he wrapped his fingers around the cylinder and pulled, only to drag whatever was digging into his back even further. The moment he took his fingers away to push the cylinder through, thin slivers of metal sprang out from the slits and buried themselves into his chest, completely securing the device into his chest. Deirean roared and dug at the metal. Whatever this thing was, he would tear it out and—

Another whirring sound found Deirean's ears, though this one rapidly grew louder, approaching him. He rose to his feet, left hand coming down to grip the metal hilt by his side. _There are ships coming_. This had been an ambush. The havneel had sought to incapacitate him with this device and were now coming to finish him off. His breathing did not come easily, and shifting his right arm sent arcs of pain coursing through his body. He would not be able to defend himself effectively in open combat, no matter what his advantage was. Unfortunately for these havneel, however, Deirean had spent millennia hunting their kind. No matter how much time had passed, that advantage could never be taken away.

Deirean sprinted across the street to the building there. The havneel ships were very close now, and he could feel their signatures clearly now. They were remarkably impassive, but tinged by anger. Gritting his teeth, Deirean kicked the door in and stepped inside.

The building consisted of a single large room, filled with a number of vehicles in storage. Deirean had seen a wide variety of similar machines across the settlement, although few as box-like as these. He made little effort to inspect them further, instead using them for cover on his path through the building.

Outside, he sensed over two dozen havneel gathering to enter the building, and a dozen more had landed on the opposite end of the building. Deirean stopped and knelt behind one of the vehicles. Even he couldn't take on that many warriors, not like this. Reaching up to the device in his chest, he found what purchase he could and began to twist. The barbs made it so that he couldn't push or pull it through, but if he snapped those off—He instinctively pulled his hands away and hissed as electricity shot from the device throughout his body. _Vrikta!_ The surge was not debilitatingly painful, but it would make removing the object more difficult, and time was not something he had in immediate supply.

The door Deirean had entered through reopened, and the havneel clattered in. "Spread out and search the building. Check under every truck. You two, stay outside and keep your weapons trained on this door. No one leaves without my say-so." It was not difficult to identify the man giving orders, his stony presence more powerful than any of those around.

Deirean growled. If he were going to escape this building, it would not be through open combat. That suited him fine, however; he was Hunter Commander, and it had been far too long since he had been on a proper hunt.

Standing up, Deirean examined the space above him. The building was twice as tall as was necessary to house the vehicles, and a number of steel joists supported the ceiling. Several lights hung from the joists throughout the room and windows along the upper walls allowed sunlight to filter in but, at midday, much of the building was still shrouded in shadow.

Even with only one arm to steady himself, it was a simple matter for Deirean to leap up to the joists. He watched for any indication that he had been seen, but the havneel were focused on the trucks as they had been ordered by Stone. Deirean focused his gaze on the man. He was average height by Rephaite standards, though perhaps tall for a havneel. He stood straight and carried a one-handed projectile weapon, smaller than those the others carried, but built with a bulky frame that suggested its power.

Interestingly, he dressed differently from the soldiers he commanded. While they wore darker versions of the armor that Deirean had stolen, Stone wore deliberately attention-grabbing white clothes that offered little protection aside from a pair of spaulders across his shoulders. _Just like Decay_. Deirean clicked his tongue in curiosity. Perhaps there was a correlation between a havneel's strength and the amount of armor they wore? It would be a difficult hypothesis to prove, as the weakest havneel also wore no armor, but it was certainly something to consider for the future.

The havneel soldiers had spread out through the building. Beneath Deirean, a pair approached the truck he had hidden behind. One nodded to the other, who activated a mechanical torch on his weapon and knelt down to look beneath the truck.

Thousands of years of hunting experience allowed Deirean to drop silently, though the same could not be said of the havneel he landed upon. Deirean's blade had pierced deep into the man's torso through a gap in his armor around his neck and, though Deirean was able to stop him from falling, the man let out a quiet wheeze in his expiration. The sound was loud enough to attract the kneeling havneel's attention, who had just lifted his knee off the ground before Deirean's sword chopped through his helmet and into his skull.

Deirean shuddered in ecstasy. These two men were weak and did little to sate his koravah, but it was enough to dull the wildfire in his chest. Easing the men down to the ground, he freed his blade and turned his attention outward. It seemed the kills had gone unnoticed, but a trio of soldiers were coming his way on a patrol route behind the trucks, on the outer edge of the building. Deirean pressed himself against the vehicle and waited for them to approach.

The first man didn't even register surprise as Deirean whirled around and cut through his neck. The two soldiers flanking him, whose weapons were at the ready but lowered, took aim at Deirean, but were too close to fire before he was upon them. The steel blade pinned the left man's arm to his chest as he was run through, and the right man's throat cracked with a hand around it. The two men were brought to the ground by Deirean's momentum, and their signatures quickly faded.

These kills had not been as quiet as the first two, however. " _I think I heard something over by the entrance. Moving to check it out._ " Deirean heard the voice in triplicate, coming from the dead soldiers' helmets. His position was compromised, and so killing the man responsible would be futile. Better to use that to his advantage. Pulling one of the helmets loose to take with him, he climbed up onto the truck, careful to avoid smearing the blood that had splattered across the back. The metal creaked, echoing within itself. _Hollow._

Deirean laid low, slowing his breathing and allowing the soldier to approach. " _We've got men down. Three—no, five bodies. Looks like they were cut down by a sword._ " The man's signature pressed against Deirean, sharp and fearful. Deirean smiled. Fearful havneel made mistakes.

" _Hold position._ " Stone's voice. " _You three, with me. Everyone else, form a perimeter._ "

As one, the signatures throughout the building shifted and moved toward Deirean. From his position, they were approaching from only two directions, giving him a wide opening to act as he saw fit. Taking the helmet, he dropped it off the side of the truck, away from the havneel who had reported his position. Fear spiked in the man's signature, but Deirean didn't have to wait long for him to move toward the source of the noise.

When the soldier was below him, Deirean struck. His blade pierced through the havneel's chest, and a quick change of grip allowed Deirean to pull him back up onto the truck. Carefully positioning the body beside him to avoid notice from the ground, Deirean took the weapon the havneel had carried. He had seen these rifles used to varied success against the pech ter'al, and though he did not particularly care for firearms as weapons, they were weapons nonetheless.

Stone and the three soldiers came from the front of the trucks. Muted horror and disgust needled across Deirean's body, evidence that they had discovered the bodies of their comrades, but it was Stone's grinding rage that came through truest. "I know you're here, Deirean. You can't hide forever, so you may as well surrender now." No, Deirean couldn't hide forever, but the hunt was not about hiding. It was about power through fear. Fear of the unknown was a powerful tool, but sometimes a show of force was more effective.

Deirean shoved the dead soldier toward his compatriots, rolling off the truck in the opposite direction. The havneel shouted in alarm, and one of their signatures fell to the ground beneath the corpse. Twisting to land on his feet, Deirean raised his stolen rifle and fired out past the front of the truck. The two soldiers in the perimeter visible from his position dropped, their signatures vanishing from the space around Deirean, and four more shots through the thin walls of the truck quenched three more.

Stone's signature only dipped for a moment before flaring back in rage. A large caliber round tore through the truck from the other side, sending a vibration up Deirean's arm in passing. Growling, he threw himself against the truck. His muscles burned where the rod in his chest kept them from healing, but the cumulative lives he had taken gave him the energy he needed to push past the pain. Metal crunched and glass shattered when the vehicle collided with the one on the other side, pinning Stone in between. Remarkably, his signature was still active, though it was significantly weaker.

Deirean turned his attention to the remaining soldiers. Moving the truck had exposed his position to more of the perimeter, and these havneel wasted no time in bringing their weapons to bear on him. One of their bullets struck him in the hip before he was able to fully pull away from the vehicle, and he swiftly put down the man who had fired it. Retreating to the outer wall, Deirean tossed the rifle away in frustration. With his free hand, he pushed into the wound and extricated the slug. There were still shards of bone that would give him difficulty, but that would heal on its own.

The havneel kept their distance, fear and uncertainty sharp in their signatures. Without their commander, they were lost. Deirean steadied his breathing, still finding it difficult with the device in his chest. The room was quiet. It was time to push. "There were forty of you when this began." His voice reverberated off the metal ceiling, and the havneel's signatures bristled. "Twelve of you are dead, and your commander has been incapacitated. Two soldiers stand at each door, ready to shoot me if I attempt to flee, but I tell you this: I will not flee. I will not leave this building until I have killed every havneel within. You believe you have me trapped? I will show you how wrong you are."

The fear in the room reached a peak, and at least some of the havneel were moments away from running when the sound of creaking metal and broken glass falling to the ground filled the air. The trucks shook behind Deirean, then shifted apart toward the front. Two havneel rushed toward the gap between the trucks, and whatever fear Deirean had instilled dissipated. Stone was still conscious. "So, now you're interested in talking." His voice was strained and his breathing was audible, but the man's signature still pressed firmly against Deirean's back.

Deirean leaned against the back of the truck, considering his options. Stone's effect on his soldiers was notable, soothing their signatures with his mere presence. Clearly, if Deirean were to break the havneel, Stone would need to be eliminated. It was unlikely that Stone would expose himself to an easy attack, however. "Talking, as you say, has its purpose," Deirean said, reaching once again for the cylinder in his chest. "I find it is a useful tool for distraction and intimidation, but there is little point to it in combat. Tell me, is this a universal practice among your kind, or have I simply had the misfortune to encounter every individual who prefers to speak while they fight?" As with his last attempt, twisting the cylinder resulted in an electric current running throughout Deirean's body. His muscles tensed and breathing became nigh impossible, but he continued to apply force.

"Emotion is a powerful tool, as I'm sure you are aware," Stone said, not moving from his position. The other havneel had begun to tighten their perimeter, however. Buried in the armor and his flesh, the metal anchors in Deirean's chest creaked. "With the right words, you can manipulate someone into making a mistake or revealing their intentions. So, you tell me: what do you think you're distracting us from?"

 _Snap!_

Deirean's laugh filled the room, and gave the havneel pause. Reaching around his back, he pulled the cylinder free. Immediately, he could feel his body begin to repair itself. The metal pins were still stuck in his chest, but those would be ejected in time. "You are smarter than Decay and her lackey, Stone. You understand your enemies strengths and weaknesses and attempt to exploit them, but you are still a fool to believe you can trap me." Crushing what was left of the cylinder, Deirean tossed it toward the front of the truck.

The metal clattered across the floor, eliciting a spike of fear from Stone, pointed and urgent. "Move in, now!" The havneel moved quickly, and a low chuckle left Deirean's throat. Gripping his sword, he prepared himself for the attack.

When the first soldier neared the corner of the truck, Deirean moved. The man's weapon fell to the ground before he did, cleft in two by the rising blade that Deirean then thrust into his chest. The soldiers had spaced themselves in an attempt to give themselves room to fire on him, but there would be no stopping him. He moved faster than them, cutting down two, three, four while their bullets cut through the air around him.

More soldiers came around the backs of the trucks, flanking on both sides. Grabbing a soldier in front of him, Deirean dragged his blade across the man's throat before pushing him into the line of havneel in front of him. He relished in the surprise crawling along his skin and down his spine before turning and attacking those behind. A push to redirect the left woman's rifle, a slash across the right man's chest, a thrust into the woman's abdomen. Stone's signature behind him, burning with the intent to kill. Deirean spun his blade around and intercepted the bullet the commander fired. For a brief moment, Deirean thought the havneel might begin speaking again, but the tensing muscles in his ungloved hand spoke otherwise. Deirean tore forward, the second bullet narrowly passing by his cheek. Weaving to the left, he leapt up and used the truck to push back off toward Stone. The man raised his right arm in a defensive posture.

Rather than cut through as it had the other soldiers, Deirean's sword struck Stone's arm with a metallic _clang_. The abrupt stop threw off Deirean's balance enough that he stumbled past Stone, but he recovered in time to dip out of the way of a punch from the same arm. As it passed by, Deirean caught a glimpse of metal through the torn sleeve. _A false arm!_

Snarling, Deirean swung his blade toward Stone's neck, only for the other man to catch the blade with his metal hand. Warm steel brushed against the uniform covering Deirean's abdomen, and he instinctively reached down with his free hand to pull the gun to the side. An explosion of superheated gas accompanying the firing of the weapon scorched his flesh, giving Stone the opening to lift his right leg and kick Deirean's. The attack was far more powerful than it should have been, fracturing the bone.

Deirean was beyond the pain. Wrenching Stone's weapon from his grip, he cast the firearm aside and grabbed the man's false arm. The physical strain was evident in Stone's face as he attempted to fight Deirean's grip but, false arm or no, he was no match for a Rephaim. When something metal gave way under his fingers, Deirean released the arm and grabbed Stone by the back of the head, dragging it down to meet his rising knee.

Stone reeled back, but Deirean's hand kept him from staggering away. Spinning the man around, Deirean pulled him against his chest and leveled his blade across his throat. The remaining soldiers had gathered around them and were pointing their weapons at them, but their fear and uncertainty dug deep. "Tell them to stand down," Deirean growled into Stone's ear.

Despite his position, Stone's signature welled up with determination. "You can kill me if you like, but my men will cut you down the instant you do."

Fury boiled inside Deirean and he pulled the blade tighter. "Make no mistake, you _will_ die, if for nothing more than wagering the lives of those under your command on an impossible gambit." He turned his head, eyeing the soldiers. "I came here for Wax and no one else, but if they do not lower their weapons, I will mark them complicit in your actions and they will die alongside you."

Stone's resolve wavered, but did not last long. "Stand down," he said, head dipping forward against the blade. "Fall back to the exits." The soldiers' confusion rolled across Deirean's skin, but they obeyed and backed away. Deirean followed their retreat, waiting for sufficient distance before he ended Stone's life. Unfortunately, that just gave Stone more time to speak. "Aspen Gray. Is she a part of this?"

Deirean growled. "Aspen Gray is a child who has yet to realize her true place in the world." He pulled the blade tight against Stone's throat, drawing a thin bead of blood. "She will learn soon enough."

One of the windows along the ceiling shattered inward, and Deirean looked to see the shadow of a man swinging an impractically large sword toward him. In the same moment, Stone jerked his head back, loosening Deirean's hold enough to allow him to slip away. Deirean stepped to the side, maneuvering his blade to deflect the incoming sword. The newcomer's signature settled on Deirean at once, and he instantly recognized it. It was the same feathery-signatured man from the tower. The abomination.

Feather quickly positioned himself between Deirean and Stone, clearly guarding the wounded man. Growling at the inconvenience, Deirean pushed forward. Feather swung his blade in a horizontal arc, but Deirean rolled underneath it, coming up behind the man. He jerked his arm back as he stood, catching Feather in the vital organs beneath the ribcage and knocking him away.

Stone, still possessing some fight in him despite not having a proper weapon, closed the distance and punched Deirean in the face with his false hand. Bone broke, but Deirean did not lose his balance. Dipping beneath an attempted follow-up cross, he slashed his sword across Stone's abdomen. The blade bit into metal once again as it crossed the man's right side, but drew blood along his left. Both havneel were consumed by surprise and confusion, so much so that neither acted before Deirean drew forward and pushed his sword into Stone's chest. A strangled grunt escaped the man's lips before Deirean pulled his blade out and he fell to the ground.

"James!" A new voice, decidedly feminine and unfamiliar. Near the entrance stood a woman in white and black. Her signature, like strands of silk wrapping around Deirean's body and digging into his skin, was powerful and filled with fury. She raised an odd-looking stick in his direction and her signature grew even more powerful. Deirean tensed, expecting a wave of flame similar to Decay's magic when she whipped her arm to the side.

He did not anticipate one of the trucks to lift off the ground and crash into him.

(- -)

Glynda ran forward, coming to a stop next to James's fallen body. Frantically, she cupped his cheek and turned his face toward her. Half-lidded eyes stared into space past her and his breathing was shallow, but he was still alive. Glynda counted that small blessing even as she cursed herself for her earlier indecision. Looking around, it was easy to see what the cost had been.

Across the room, the truck she had thrown at the rephaim shifted. Glynda rose to her feet, her fury returning as she readied her crop. Before she she could step forward, however, Qrow put a hand on her shoulder. "Stay here and make sure James is alright. I'll deal with Deirean."

Glynda shook his hand off. "If you think I'm going to let you fight him alone after what he's done—"

"Look, I get it," Qrow snapped, eyes narrowed, "but Jimmy needs help right now and we both know I'm not the one to give it to him." He looked over to the truck, which had just been rolled back onto its wheels. "I can hold Deirean off until you get him stabilized."

Glynda's crop creaked in her grip. Qrow was right and, against her better judgement, she had to trust him. She nodded and he ran off, leaving her to kneel back down beside James. His uniform was dirty, his armor scuffed, and he had several cuts across his body, but the most serious injury was obviously the one in his chest. Using her Semblance to tear open the layers of clothing over the wound, she gave it a closer inspection.

Remarkably, it didn't appear to be a lethal blow, and James's Aura was already repairing the damage. Glynda frowned. That couldn't be right. Not that she wasn't grateful that James was already healing but, for him to have taken this kind of wound, his Aura would have to have been nearly depleted. Leaning forward, she gently placed her hands on the wound.

" _Glynda…_ " James's head rocked side to side as he attempted to focus his eyes on her.

"Quiet now," the woman responded, internalizing her sigh of relief. "You need to save your strength."

A metallic hand rose up to brush her arm before slipping back down against James's chest. " _The girl…_ " He coughed, blood-stained lips contorting in agony. Glynda could feel the air escaping through the hole in his chest, but she let him speak regardless. " _Ozpin trusted her… We have to… trust her too…_ "

"Aspen? James…"

" _Find… wax... Deirean… looking… her…_ " The last of James's energy faded, and he slipped into unconsciousness. Cursing under her breath, Glynda continued to lay her hands on his wound.

After a minute, Qrow returned, breathing hard and with several cuts across his body. "He got away," he reported grimly. "Ran out the back and cut through three of the soldiers there before jumping into the bay. I can go fly around, wait for him to surface again, but…"

Glynda shook her head. "No, let him go for now."

"Do you have a plan?"

 _A plan…_ Glynda looked down at James. Aspen… Finding wax… She would have to work out the details later but, for the time being, the general's intent seemed clear. Glynda turned her gaze toward Qrow. "It seems like you'll be getting your conversation with those hunters after all."

* * *

 **So, a lot's happened since I last updated. I finished my last semester of classes, got a job, moved… Oh, and we got an entire volume of RWBY. Can't forget that. I guess as ways of explanation for why it's taken so long, I'll say it was a combination of having a very writing intensive class and me not really wanting to write this chapter. I know I said I wouldn't talk about how much trouble I have writing chapters, but if this one doesn't quite land as well as others, that's why.**

 **Yeah, I don't have anything to say on this chapter aside from pointing out that Ironwood has armor that he never wears in the show. The shoulder armor I mentioned here actually shows up in the Volume 3 opening and, as far as I know, no one has ever mentioned it. It makes sense that he didn't wear it in the show since he never got the chance to put it on, but still.**

 **Next chapter, we'll be getting back to Aspen and co. Hopefully, it won't be anywhere near as long before you get that. Au revoir!**


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